


If I Beg

by MedusaTheProphet



Category: Fallout (Video Games)
Genre: Drama, Eventual Smut, F/M, Intense, Romance, Self-Harm, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-16
Updated: 2019-01-13
Packaged: 2019-08-03 01:03:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 27
Words: 28,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16316135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MedusaTheProphet/pseuds/MedusaTheProphet
Summary: First time writing a naughty fanfic for all of you out there who felt a flutter when you first met Charon. Will be updated frequently, Feedback appreciated <3





	1. A Beginning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First time writing something like this. Hope you enjoy it, feedback is welcome <3

Charon was bored. He was always fucking bored but as of late, there had been even less of a footfall through the doors of Azrukhal's bar. The Ninth Circle was shabby, with grimy, worn out carpets and wonky furniture. A musty smell permeated the place and little motes of dust fell consistently from the ceiling. Azrukhal stood at the bar, face buried in the wall safe to his right, muttering to himself as he counted his caps. Apart from Patchwork, laying in a puddle of his own drool in the corner, there were no other customers. Nothing new. Charon missed the days when he'd get to throw out the undesirables, at least that was some sort of action. It had been a long time since his employer had sent him on a scouting mission, and Charon longed to feel the weight of a freshly dead kill on his conscience. Standing in the dimly lit hall by the door, there wasn't much to do apart from shift on his feet, thinking about nothing and staying alert. Azrukhal had been shifty as of late, being even more short-tempered and cruel than usual.  
Tonight Charon was looking forward to closing. Normally he didn't care; but the anxiety of his boss was making him long for the minutes to tick by. It was already getting late, the bar would close soon and as such, Patchwork started to stir. Not wanting to be manhandled by Azrukhals' lackey once again, The drunk stumbled to his feet and approached Charon at the door.

'Night you supermutant-lookin' fucker.' Drawled Patchwork as he hung onto the swinging door and disappeared behind it.

Charon glowered at the space where Patchwork had been, then snapped his attention back to the bar. His employer had pulled his head from the safe, and was now beckoning across the room. In two quick steps, the massive ghoul covered the ground silently, stopping to hover in front of the bar and his grotesque boss.

  
Azrukhal was a short, fat little ghoul, who didn't take care of himself. Day by day, he'd stand behind his bar, slugging back whiskey after whiskey, counting his caps and breathing his putrid breath on anyone who dared to come by. Everything Azrukhal did was permeated with his alcohol-laced stench. Ghouls were known for looking disgusting but only the ones who didn't bathe could be smelt a mile off, and Charon's boss did _not_ care to bathe. As a consequence, neither did Charon, although he made sure to take off at night whenever it rained heavily to give himself a good wash. When it came to Charon, Azrukhal was harsh. He kept him fed and watered as was his duty, there was no point wasting caps on a bodyguard who was too weak to be of any service. However, the food Azrukhal provided was disgusting, leftovers from the bar and raw scraps of meat from time to time. Also, whenever Charon displeased his boss, he would often be starved for a few days. Enough to make him complacent and silently grateful for the usual scraps.

  
'Operational', is how Charon felt about his current condition. To stretch his legs and get some more exercise than the circuits and push ups he did in his very little spare time would be a vast improvement. He made a mental note to ask Azrukhal about it, the next time he was drunk and accepting requests. Currently, his Employer was looking at him questioningly whilst pouring out two glasses of whiskey. Charon didn't like to drink; it kept him from being his normal, calculated self. He preferred to be in control and able to protect his contract holder. They'd both played this game too many times though, and Charon knew if he didn't accept the drink he would be forced to accept a lot more, probably a whole bottle, and maybe some jet as well. Lifting the offending liquid to his lips, he drained the glass in one gulp and set it down gently on the bar. Azrukhal eyed him warily, then refilled the glass and nudged it back to Charon.

  
'Carol's got a visitor, and every-damn-body is so excited about it that they've all fucked off over to her place.' Grumbled Azrukhal, swaying on his feet a little as his gestured wildly.

Charon stood still, knowing tonight would be a long one, filled with his boss's angry ramblings about the state of his depleting safe.

'Was thinking of ordering you to go find her, blow her brains out, but I don't need the whole community turning feral on me,' Azrukhal sighed, downing his drink and staring pointedly at Charon's full glass.

'They call her The Wanderer. That jumped up prick on the radio has been going on about her for a year or so, she's apparently a pretty big deal. Carol's even had a few visitors from the outside since word's spread that this 'wanderer' chick is in underworld. So tonight, you're going to wait until everyone's asleep, and then you're going to go make this stranger an offer she can't refuse.' Watching as Charon tipped his glass back to finish the whiskey Azrukhal snorted in satisfaction and, reaching behind him, passed his servant a full bottle of expensive vodka.

'Go to her room at Carol's, knock, and give her this. Explain that we'll be expecting her tomorrow and I won't be happy if she turns down our little invitation. If she's asleep, wake her up. Make sure she gets the message.' With a curt nod from his boss Charon realised he was dismissed, and so he strode out of the bar and over to Carol's.

Turning the vodka bottle in his hands, Charon was apprehensive. This really was the expensive stuff. Azrukhal was a cheap, tight ghoul, so this was evidently important. Whatever this girl was; ghoul, human, raider, wanderer.... Charon was nervous. It wasn't often he felt this way and he stopped for a second to steady his breath. If she reacted badly to him and he had to harm her, he had a feeling the boss wouldn't be happy, but Charon wasn't known for his conversational skills. He'd just have to try not to be so intimidating.  
Carol, being Azrukhal's direct competition, was not happy to see Charon waiting in the common room of her little corner of Underworld. Narrowing her eyes, she walked over and stood right in front of him, hands on her hips.

'Now now, Charon. We're just about to close and everyone's left anyway, you can't sabotage me by scaring all my patrons if they've already gone! What do you want?'

  
Charon was always amused by Carol. She was the only ghoul in the whole community who didn't seem fazed by him, all seven rotting feet of him. If he had the choice, he'd leave her and her business alone but Azrukhal was relentless in his quest to knock her and her cafe-slash-inn to the ground. Charon was tired of killing off her suppliers, her traders and sometimes her customers, despite his usual boredom. There was no fun or thrill, in facing down other ghouls or humans that were begging for their lives.

'I'm here to see the wanderer, Azrukhal sent me.' Charon purposefully walked forwards as he spoke, towards the stairs that led to the inn's rooms. 'You gonna tell me which room or do I have to wake up your other guests?' He asked, cocking an eyebrow at Carol.

Knowing that nothing and no-one could get in the way of the commands issued to Charon, Carol sighed with the heavy fact that the poor girl in the spare room was probably going to wind up dead, if Azrukhal was interested in her.

'Please Charon, whatever it is Azrukhal wants, can't I do it? She's been doing wonders for me here and to be honest, I'd actually like her to come back sometime.' Carol sounded genuine, plus Charon had been very concerned that this girl, at the sight of him, would try to kill him. Which would mean he would kill her, and that definitely wasn't what his boss had asked.

'Very well,' Charon replied 'But I will be right behind you, you tell her what I say and you don't try anything stupid, Carol.' The huge ghoul felt conflicted. On one hand, he didn't consider this as going against a direct command, as long as the job was done right that was what mattered. On the other, he wasn't sure how much he could trust Carol. He knew she was smart though, and that she didn't want to end up in Azrukhal's pile of dead adversaries.

Whilst Carol was just a business rival, Azrukhal viewed her as an annoyance, and a challenge. Charon knew that if she ever overstepped her bounds though, and tried to interfere, his employer would order him to kill her. Carol wouldn't stand a chance. And so, the pair trudged up the stairs to where the wanderer was sleeping. Charon pushed the vodka into Carol's open palm, grabbing her arm as she went to knock on the door.

'Tell her she's been asked to grace us with her presence at the Ninth, tomorrow evening. It's not a request.' Backing up, Charon followed the stairs down until he was halfway between the foyer and the rooms, wanting to listen but not to be seen.

He heard Carol tap on the door, and a few mumbling voices before it swung shut again. Moments later, Carol appeared next to him, tutting under her breath and continuing on down the stairs. When she got to the bottom, she looked up at him with reproach on her face.

'She's a nice girl, but I'd be careful if I were you. I'd fancy her chances against you, ass-hole.' Carol smirked as she said the last bit, but Charon was already trying to stifle his smile.

Even the suggestion that some girl would be able to take him on was hilarious to him, and he waited until he was at the end of the stairwell before letting out a short barking laugh. Carol glared at him, holding the door to make it clear he was to leave. Shaking his head, he ambled back down the hall to the bar, ready to resume his spot in the corner and doze until tomorrow.


	2. The Girl who Hurts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Getting to know our lone wanderer. Hope you guys are having a great day!! <3

Snuggling  back into her sheets, Ash eyed the bottle of vodka in her hand. Unopened and in good condition, it called to her seductively. Normally she wouldn't be so stupid as to drink from a bottle she had just been given, but tonight she was in no mood for caution. It had been six months since her dad had died, and two since her super mutant friend had helped her kick-start project purity for good. It would take years for any real difference to be made however, and since finishing what she started, Ash had felt empty and complacent. She'd stumbled back to Megaton, fixed herself up at home and then rolled back out the gates again, leaving Dogmeat behind. He had whimpered and moaned, but she knew Gob and Nova would take good care of him, plus she was pretty sure she wouldn't be coming home again. After her dad had died, everything seemed to lose any meaning. Sure, she was still herself. A few months after he passed she found she could laugh and joke and feel things once more. On the inside though she knew that when the day came for her to fall in the wastes, she would accept it happily. Missing her dad every day was pretty crap, and the weight of every being she had killed pulled on her mind always.

She had come to underworld to rest, having slaughtered a few super mutants and in great need of a bath. Underworld didn't have a plumbing system, but the nice ghoul, Carol, had taken her to an abandoned part of the museum and rigged up some warm running water for her by hanging a bucket full of holes from a statue and then pouring some in. Ash had smiled at the ghoul and pushed a large bag of caps into her hand, and after the impromptu wash Carol had shown her back upstairs to her room.

'The _Wanderer_ ,' Ash whispered to herself and chuckling sarcastically, she opened the bottle in her hand to take a long sip from it, spluttering a bit afterwards. The vodka hit her stomach, warm and delicious, and she set it down on the table. Reaching for her cigarettes by the side of the bed, she carried on muttering to herself. 'Fucking Three dog. Fucking lone wanderer bullshit.' Sucking in a long drag of smoke, she relaxed a bit, a tear sliding down her cheek. So much had happened in the last year. Her dad was gone, she had no-one left. Unless you counted the rabid fans, of course. When she'd first left the vault, up until the day she found her father, she had helped anyone and everyone she could. Ash had always been compassionate and very emotional. Heck, the first time she shot a rabid dog that was clearly trying to eat her she had sobbed for hours, and thought about it for a week. She hated to see people being hurt, a feeling she knew all too well herself, and so the rabble of the wasteland had learned to call on her when they needed help.

When people needed her, usually she had to kill someone. Or something.

_Soul-less is what you have to be, you can't make everyone happy in this damn world_ , Ash thought to herself glumly. Helping people used to make her feel alive. It had been a long time, though, and the shine had very clearly worn off. The wanderer didn't cry too often, nowadays. She still felt everything but she had learnt to keep it in, to always deal with the problem at hand before becoming emotional. This had served her well in staying alive, but feeling less and less human every day was starting to take its' toll on her.

Being portrayed by Three dog as some sort of 'saviour of the wasteland' wasn't helping that particular feeling, either.

She assumed that whoever was waiting for her at the Ninth Circle had heard about her on the radio, and wanted something from her. When Carol had knocked on the door, Ash had shoved aside her irritation and opened it, listening warily. Normally she wouldn't respond to invitations such as the one Carol laid out for her, but the ghoul had looked and sounded very nervous. The bottle of vodka had been firmly pushed into Ash's hands, and she got the idea that Carol thought she should definitely not ignore the request. Being murdered by a ghoul in underworld was unlikely. Carol had explained that they needed all the trade they could possibly get and that a reputation for killing humans wasn't going to help with that.

Laying back in bed, she ground her cigarette out into her arm, then chucked the butt into the ashtray. She knew she shouldn't really hurt herself just to feel something, but she loved the little rush, and the blank silence that settled over her as her adrenaline wore off. She'd always had a problem with hurting herself when she was stressed, but had never really _seen_ it as a problem. She never cut too deep, never went too far. Just enough to keep her sane and to be honest, she loved it. Most nights she went to sleep tracing the scars along her outer forearm underneath where her pip-boy usually sat, and tonight was no exception.


	3. Observation

Azrukhal leaned over the bar and spat onto the floor, the disgusting glob landing at Charon's feet.

'Fucking smoothskin bitch, where is she? It's 8'o clock for fucks' sake. What did you tell her, exactly?'

Charon's boss was bristling, and had been pacing angrily for the last two hours, muttering to himself and shooting glares across to Charon every few minutes. The choice to have Carol pass on the message had been a bad one, indeed. He was about to open his mouth and explain that he'd gotten her to deliver the vodka, when the doors to the bar started to creak open. Both ghouls shifted their attention to the girl that had just wandered in.

She was small, probably about five feet, and a messy bob of dark hair framed her pale face. Her tattered vault suit had seen better days and a pip-boy that looked in relatively good condition was strapped to her left arm. From her other arm hung a combat shotgun, similar to the one Charon carried himself,  but in much better condition. Big, dark blue eyes darted around before settling on Charon, who was standing the closest to her.

She took a step forward with curious eyes fixed on his which unnerved him somewhat. Her mouth dropped open a little before closing quickly, her hand gripping the shotgun she carried even tighter, knuckles white. Looking him up and down she let out a shrill whistle and staring him full in the face, she said, 'Fuck. You're _biiiig_.'

Charon felt amused, for the second time in as many days.

'Talk to Azrukhal' he uttered gruffly, lowering his eyes from her face to the ground and focusing on his boss's wad of spit that had started to sink into the dusty carpet. She didn't move, and he didn't need to look up again to know what she was doing. Everyone that came in here was shocked by him when they saw him the first time. His height was more like that of a super mutant and he'd never met another ghoul that even came close to his size. The girl stood there a moment more, finished her appraisal and then turned on her heel, heading for the bar.

'The vodka was a  nice touch.' Charon heard her say to his boss as she took a seat on a bar stool. 'What do you want? and make it quick, I intend to drink myself into oblivion once we're done talking business.'

Charon turned his head a fraction to see his employer smirking at the girl, looking like he wanted to devour her.

'I'm glad the drink was to your liking. Please, what else can I get you? I am Azrukhal and I would be happy to aid you on your way to oblivion.'


	4. Agreement

Ash sat tentatively on the bar stool, repulsed by the ghoul standing in front of her. She'd ordered a neat whiskey, asked him to keep them coming, but as of yet he still hadn't made any mention of what he wanted from her. After listening to his spiel about the Ninth Circle being his bar, the best bar in Underworld, she was getting antsy. Raising the glass to her lips, she downed the drink in one go and locked her gaze onto the foul specimen before her.

'What. do. you. want?' She asked, trying not to sound as frustrated as she was.

'I want you to stay here a while' Azrukhal finally said, leaning forwards and smiling. 'I know people follow you up there on the surface, and we need customers. Plus, I need someone to accompany Charon to Rivet City at some point, he gets work done for me but by God does he scare people. You do the opposite of scaring people. For now I just wanted you to stop by and have a few drinks.' He leaned back again, pressing his fleshy fingers together and looking pleased with himself.

She noticed how every time he spoke he drew in a rattling, wet sounding breath. The mixture of her disgust at this and her annoyance at being summoned for a few _drinks_ was not improving her mood. She held out her glass for a refill and smiled back at him serenely.

'I've been looking for a place to get progressively fucked up in, so fine. This will do for the next couple of days. But if you want someone to go to Rivet City for you, it will have to be soon. I don't stay in one place for too long and I don't intend for that to change. I'll be out of this shithole in a week.'

The old, portly ghoul looked offended, choosing to ignore the glass in her outstretched hand. 'You mean to say underworld isn't to your liking? You should be careful. I'm an accepting, kind gentleman but some of my friends here aren't. You should keep opinions like that to yourself. Although if the radio is anything to go by, you probably aren't all that worried about danger.'

Ash stared at him openly for a moment, she wasn't sure what his game plan was. Slamming her glass back down onto the bar loudly, she rolled her eyes and raised her voice.

'You shouldn't listen to that shit. Three dog's a nut. If you want me to stay here and drink, bring in some patrons, I will for the next couple nights but I _won't_ be paying for my drinks.' 

Suddenly there was a very heavy weight bearing down on her left shoulder, and she felt a presence behind her. The huge ghoul from the door was standing there, looking across at his employer with a question in his eyes. Before anyone had time to say anything, Ash started to laugh. Quietly at first and then throwing her head back, tears starting to leak down one cheek.

'Get your hand off me meathead, just because you're big doesn't mean shit, and your blood all over this bar will not be helping me bring in customers. Or maybe it would, because then you'd be gone.' She growled this into the air, trying not to laugh still, not bothering to turn and look at the ghoul.

'Charon.' Azrukhal growled, breaking the silence and shaking his head.

With a slight 'hmph' noise, the massive ghoul was leaning back in the corner again, as if the whole display hadn't just happened. Ash twisted herself around on the barstool, making herself spin slowly a few times and waiting for the creature's response. By the time she turned back to him, Azrukhal was holding another whiskey out to her, great interest and excitement etched into his cracked face.

'We have a deal, my beautiful smoothskin. I'm going to go speak to the masses, let everyone in Underworld know we'll be ramping things up a notch tonight. Charon will keep you company, if you want another drink ask him.' Azurkhal waddled out from behind the bar, nodding to Charon with a stern expression on his face as he left.


	5. The Servant

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hope this is OK, please let me know if I make any mistakes etc <3 Lone is a bit mental, just like myself! :D

Charon watched the girl as she swivelled around on the barstool,  hopped down and shimmied over to him with a mischievous glint in her eyes.

'Ya hear that big boy? Another whiskey would go down nicely.'

Tipping the rest of her drink down her throat, she spread her arm into the air, and made a big show of dropping her glass on the floor. Charon did _not_ have to clean up after customers unless expressly ordered to do so, and unflinchingly walked over to the bar, ignoring the smoothskin. He felt this was his best course of action, for allowing himself to get irritated would only mean he wouldn't get any rest tonight. He knew his temper was a big problem, and he had previously caused a _lot_ of issues for himself by acting without thinking first.

The boss wanted this girl here, being rude, getting drunk and sassing the other patrons  so Charon had no choice but to deal with her. Pouring the whiskey, he realised that she had walked back over to the bar and was trying to sit on the stool again. Now that she'd had a drink, her height was even more apparent. She couldn't sit on the chair properly, she had to hop up. Once she was settled, a pink blush spread across her face when she realised Charon was regarding her coolly. He passed her the whiskey, wordlessly, and she began to laugh again before Charon walked back to his corner in silence. When the bar doors opened once more and almost all of the underworld residents poured in, he had some time to observe. _At least the place will be more lively tonight,_ he thought.

As the evening progressed, he watched as Azrukhal poured drink after drink, smiling and laughing in time with the patrons. The girl sat in the middle of the bar, gesticulating wildly and telling jokes. At least, he assumed they were jokes, everyone seemed to laugh all at once every now and again. The air grew hazy with smoke and second-hand jet, so Charon decided he needed a break, and slipped out into the hallway. Azrukhal allowed Charon to leave whenever he needed to use the bathroom and to exercise, although he was expected to only be gone as long as necessary. He didn't need the bathroom but the smoke inside the bar was irritating what was left of his nose, and he felt oddly sour tonight, as though he had missed something.

He was anxious when the bar door opened once more, expecting his employer to be there, looking for him. Instead, he relaxed a bit when he saw it was the girl. She hadn't noticed him yet and as she backed out of the bar, she carried on walking backwards and turned slightly, crumpling when her back touched the wall. She let out a low breath whilst she crouched, and then straightened up quickly, looking over to him whilst her hand went to the shotgun at her belt.

'Shit!' she gasped. 'I didn't fucking see you! Chriiist!' She clutched her heart and then, once again, burst into laughter with her head thrown back.

'Bedtime for me, I'm knackered. But tomorrow I'll be bringing the _real_ party.'

Off she staggered, and Charon shook his head in disbelief. It wasn't often that humans were quite so relaxed in the presence of ghouls. Not only had the Wanderer made herself at home, she had been revelling in it. Laughing with the ghouls at the bar, touching them on the shoulder or the hands. Even the human traders who dealt with underworlds' residents commonly were always wary.

Then he thought of how she had deflated against the wall, head in her hands, before she had noticed him. Her tattered vault suit was loose on her, and she'd drawn her hands up into its' sleeves. She had looked so small there hovering just above the floor. The way she was with everyone in the bar had led him to think she was used to ghouls, but now he was unsure. Perhaps she was terrified, and a good performer. Either way, he found it strange and unsettling and he cursed himself for his earlier wish for a little excitement.


	6. A Friend(ly warning)

_Crikey, that ghoul is HUGE,_ thought Ash foggily, as she traipsed back to Carol's. Azrukhal had offered her a bed on his couch in his 'luxury suite' but the Wanderer wasn't bloody well stupid. She'd laughed off his offer graciously, explaining that her snoring would surely keep him up all night. In actual fact, she liked the little room Carol had provided her. There was a jar on the receptionist's desk for tips, and when Ash passed it on her way up to the stairs she chucked a handful of caps in there. She felt bad about taking everyone's business over to the Ninth Circle, especially as the lady ghoul had been so accommodating to her.

After rinsing her mouth out with tepid water, the Wanderer slid into her bed, her thoughts spiralling around in her head. She'd drank far too much, as usual, but she didn't really care. Apart from knocking back a pint of water she knew she didn't have to do anything, she'd wake up tomorrow fresh as a daisy. At some point after her dad died, her body got so used to being full of chems and alcohol that she felt permanently out of whack nowadays unless she had a little something extra in her system. Once upon a time she would have cared but now, well.

_Caring about getting fucked up is probably the easiest thing I've ever decided to do._

She curled up in the little bed, thinking pleasantly about spending the next evening in a messed up haze. Her thoughts kept snapping back to the ghoul... _Charon?_ She wasn't entirely sure of his name but reckoned that was it. Ash found herself wondering about him. He looked miserable, and Azrukhal seemed to look at him with disdain. 

Earlier, when she'd dropped the glass for him to pick it up, she had still been annoyed by his huge hand clamping down on her shoulder. She'd lost count of how many super mutants she'd slain, the _behemoths_ , for crying out loud! It pissed her off that the ghoul, and his fat employer, thought that they could make her do anything. Toying with the idea of shooting their heads off before leaving whilst finishing her last cigarette of the night, the Wanderer realised that her curiosity had been piqued. She wanted to know more about Charon, and fell asleep mulling over the silent giant in the corner of the Ninth Circle.

When she woke in the morning, her first thought was that she needed a shower. Although Ash didn't care about keeping clean much, she knew ghouls had an elevated sense of smell and the cleaner she was, the less noticeable she would be if a disappearing act was required. Trotting down the stairs in her dirty vault suit, she realised it was time for some new clothes, too. Carol was already seated at her desk, and her face crinkled up even deeper than it normally was when she saw the girl waiting at the foot of the stairs.

'I hope you slept well, sweetheart. I thought you might want another makeshift shower today? and if you wouldn't mind returning the favour for me I'll have a good wash as well; I'll be at the Ninth too this evening.'' Ash smiled at Carol and nodded, prompting her to slide out from behind the counter and link their arms together.

'I've already rigged up the little shower bucket, we just need to pour the water in for each other.' Carol said breathlessly.

Ash got the impression that Carol was a _very_ old ghoul, as she wheezed a lot and walked quite slowly. She wasn't sure though, maybe that was just part of the ghoulification process, and some aged more quickly than others. Not a lot of research had been done on ghouls, and thinking about that reminded Ash that she'd been asked to visit the clinic today, as well. The ghoul doctor who had noticed her in the halls when she'd first arrived had requested some blood and, as much as she hated needles, she wanted to ask the doc some questions.

Down in the depths of Underworld, in a room just off the main museum entrance, Ash and Carol were chatting as they washed. The wanderer had never seen a naked ghoul before, not counting the ferals which were withered away to basically nothing. It struck her as odd, how Carol was relatively normal looking underneath her clothes. Sure, she had the odd colouring of a corpse, but there were only a few patches of muscle exposed along her back and also down her calves. Anxious not to be caught staring, Ash poured another bottle of cold water into the bucket that was hanging from the statue in front of her.

'What's the deal with Charon?' The Wanderer asked, and Carol looked up at her apprehensively.

'I'll only tell you this once, because I like you and it would be nice if you came back around sometime. Stay away from Charon. I don't know what he's like really, but he will do _anything_ Azrukhal asks him, and Azrukhal is not the friendly man he seems.'

This clearly puzzled the girl and Carol cleared her throat, looking around nervously. 'Azrukhal has caused a lot of trouble for me. Charon has _facilitated_ the deaths of many of my patrons, as well as a few traders I relied on before. He will kill you, if that's what Azrukhal wants.' 

'Does the big guy owe Azrukhal or something? I didn't get the impression he was some kind of big-time mob boss or anything.' Ash queried, and Carol bowed her head, lowering her voice even more.

'I'm not sure of their arrangement, but curiosity killed the cat, you know. If I were you I wouldn't ask anyone else around here about him. It will get back to the man, eventually.  He doesn't like people in his business.'

Ash decided not to press the issue. The ladies were about done, and after dressing they strolled back towards the museum's grand hall. Carol told the vault girl that she'd have some clothes for her ready by the time she was finished at the doctor's, and Ash sauntered off in the direction of the clinic.


	7. Hate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A few graphic words and stuff in this chapter, just a quick warning <3

Azrukhal was rubbing his pudgy hands together in anticipation. He had taken all the chems left in his safe and lined them up along the bar, as well as a couple more of the good bottles of liquor. The Ninth Circle had been dusted, and extra speakers had been bought in and placed around the room. Humming as he went, Azrukhal walked around the perimeter of the bar, wiping things here and there or straightening a poster. His face was more animated than it had been in a while, and Charon was wary of his employer's good mood.

'Charon, my boy, tonight is going to be something else entirely. I've rung in a few favours and I'm having two dancing girls delivered today; when they arrive make sure you welcome them nicely.'

Charon said nothing, but in his head he was groaning. Whenever Azrukhal bought dancing girls the night ended badly. His boss had a hard time keeping his hands off the girls, and so did the patrons. Being a glorified babysitter to scantily glad women wasn't Charon's favourite job, but his apprehension was down to more than that. Sometimes Azrukhal would want to take a woman, in which case Charon was the ghoul who had to capture one and bring her to his boss. He often had to dispose of what was left of the girls after the 'fun' was over, which wasn't the most pleasant of jobs. Then there were the times that Charon had been forced to join in with this 'fun'.

Thinking about that made the huge ghoul's stomach churn. He was evil, he knew it, but only through his employers. Left to his own devices Charon would do nothing, _be_ nothing. This was no excuse though, and he knew it.

'Tonight I expect you to be _friendly,_ Charon.' His boss had come to stand in front of him, staring him down and speaking tersely. 'Now, don't get me wrong, conversation is quite obviously beyond you, but none of that 'talk to Azrukhal' shit tonight, you hear me? And if the wanderer needs anything and I'm not here you get it for her. Understood?'

Charon nodded once, keeping his eyes down to the carpet and shifting on his feet again.

'Good. Now, go and get cleaned up, the girls will be here in an hour or so and you need to be waiting for them, I'm going out to pick up something special.'

_Fucking Lone Wanderer._ Thought Charon, as he poured a bucket of cold water over his head in one of Azrukhal's rooms. _Fucking dancing girls, fucking parties._ Charon didn't like it when he was expected to talk to people. Smoothskins were terrified of him and ghouls weren't much better. Once everyone in underworld had gotten used to Charon, they mainly ignored him. A few of the woman ghouls eyed him often, he knew there were some that were interested, but he was not. Charon thought of himself as an animal, dirty and untamed. Conversation wasn't his best skill and he knew that he always looked intimidating. He liked that he was terrifying to most; but tonight his employer didn't want people scared off.

After changing into a tatty suit that had armor covertly sewn into it, Charon walked stiffly back to the bar, muttering to himself slightly about his boss. When he reached the double doors to the Ninth, he could hear conversation behind them. Knowing Azrukhal was out, Charon quietly lifted his shotgun across his chest and pushed open the door.

The Wanderer. She was sitting at the bar talking to two barely dressed girls; Charon took these to be the dancers. One was tall and slim, with curly dark hair and a chocolate complexion. The other was a ghoulette, a young one, with red hair that was still mostly intact. They were smaller than the Wanderer. They always looked young but these ones made Charon feel even more uncomfortable than usual. Clearing his throat and lowering his gun, he walked over to them slowly, noting as he did so that the Wanderer's voice got quieter and quieter as he advanced. The girls were looking up at her with shiny faces. _I guess they know who she is._ Charon thought to himself.

He stood there in silence, waiting to be noticed. Without warning, the wanderer swivelled around in her stool and addressed him. She looked cleaner than the night before, her hair was smooth and shiny in the dimly lit bar. Her eyes looked black in the soft lighting, and her back was much straighter today.

'Charon. These girls are _exquisite_. How did you know I like them so young, huh? I'll have to ask Carol for a bigger room tonight, if not I guess I'll have to use the main hall. What time should I come back later?'

Charon glared at the girl, annoyance making it hard for him to speak. _She's no better than Azrukhal._

'Be here at 8. The boss will be expecting you.' Charon finally spat out, with a fierce look in his eyes.

The Wanderer jumped off her bar stool and stepped in close to him, so that he had to look down towards his feet to see her staring back up.

'Are you mad, big boy? I'll be taking your girls to play with this evening and you won't get a turn, boo hoo.'

With that, she smirked and turned on her heel, leaving the two young girls with Charon. They looked terrified, as was expected.

'You will wait here for my employer.' Stated Charon. 'When he arrives he will tell you what he asks of you. Until then you must get ready for this afternoon. If you want a drink I will provide one for you.'

Both the girls stared up at him before shaking their heads and walking away, quickly, to the corner of the room. They settled themselves into two deep armchairs and Charon ambled back to his post by the doors. The callousness of the Wanderer had shocked Charon, as much as he could really be shocked. Her admission that she would be taking the girls for some 'fun' disgusted him. One day, he would find and kill all of the people in the world that were like that, including Azrukhal and the Smoothskin bitch. At least he could stand there and go over all the ways in his head that he would do so, thinking about torturing them both and finally offing them.

Today would be a long day.


	8. A Plan

The lone Wanderer was _Furious._ 'Carol!' She whispered, as she stomped into the inn, 'Come to my room.'

Throwing herself onto her bed as soon as she was able, she blew out all the air in her lungs and sat up, rubbing her sore arm and ripping the plaster off it. The Doctor had taken some blood and hair from her, as well as a gob of spit. She'd spoken to Barrows in length for hours about ghoulification, and he had asked her to pick a few things up for him on her travels, if she could. Barrows was a sweet ghoul, friendly and knowledgeable. Speaking to him was refreshing, and she'd made a mental note to pick up the items he had asked for as soon as she possibly could, so she could come back and chat with him some more.

When she'd left the Doctor's, she'd seen two young girls in slave collars and skimpy clothing being herded through the door of the Ninth Circle by a young man, who was also wearing a slave collar. As she'd entered the bar, the young man had pushed past her, practically running back out of Underworld the way he came. Neither Azrukhal or the monster-ghoul were present, and Ash had been in the middle of telling the girls to run along to Carol's so she could remove their collars when Charon had pushed open the doors and was striding towards them. She'd lowered her voice and told them to play along, and for _God's sake_ make it convincing, and turned to face the big guy. Thankful for her natural charisma, she'd bullshitted him for a second and then flounced out of the bar, not wanting her temper and nerves to be noticed behind all the bluster.

A few minutes later, Carol and Ash were sitting on her bed in the small room, talking animatedly.

'They look about fifteen for Christ's sake!' The Wanderer exclaimed, as Carol smoothed out the sheets on the bed next to her with a pained expression on her face.

'Azrukhal likes them young, honey. I don't know about the bodyguard. The girls won't last through till morning though; I'll tell you that much.' Carol said this with a sigh, shaking her head slowly.

The vault girl was pacing around the room now, obviously agitated. 'Well, I'll be damned if anything's going to happen to _those_ girls tonight. I'll be bringing them back here, late, OK?  I promise if I get caught, I won't breathe a word about your involvement, Carol. But I _need_ you to help me.'

The ghoul sucked a breath in, which made a low whistling noise as it came back out through her nose hole. Ash could tell she was very scared of the big monster who protected Azrukhal, and knew it would be hard to convince her to help.

'There's five hundred caps in it for you, Carol. _Please.'_

Ash knew she'd won. Carol was a nice woman and didn't want to see anyone hurt, and lately she'd been struggling for caps. The old ghoul eventually looked up and nodded her assent to the plan. Ash smiled slowly, and walked over to the mirror above the dresser.

'Time to get ready, time to get dressed!' She said in a sing-song voice, and Carol pulled out a little package from under the bed.

'Here are some clothes. You're like a child, so tiny! So I got you a few choices, I hope there's something that you like' Carol nervously put the package on Ash's bed before backing out of the door quickly. 'If this goes wrong, you do _not_ mention me, you promise?'

Ash noted how worried her new friend was, how unsettled.

'Carol, I could blow that huge zombie's brains out a thousand times over. I'm not scared, and you shouldn't be either. You're a hero for helping me, helping those girls. don't worry, I've got this. _We've_ got this.' Ash said, sounding a lot more light-hearted than she was.

Truth is, she _was s_ cared of Charon, a bit. In a fair fight without guns he'd crush her, every single time. People half-jokingly called her 'The wasteland's best shot' though, so she knew when it came to it as long as she had her shotgun, she was essentially untouchable. By that huge lumbering thing, anyway. There was no doubt about it, she was faster than him, too. She was light on her feet, quick and nimble. Blowing the last of her nerves out through her mouth in a steady stream, she lit a cigarette and ripped open the package on the bed.

A few hours later, Ash emerged from her room and skipped down the stairs, landing lightly on her feet beside the counter. She'd picked the most simple ensemble from Carol's choices; a cropped white T-shirt and cheeky shorts. She'd slicked her hair back with water and crappy wonder glue, and had a black pair of army boots on her feet that looked surprisingly new. She barely ever wore makeup but had smeared a line of charcoal eyeliner above her eyes, and had a slash of red lipstick on.

'Have you got a jacket or a coat or something, Carol?' She trilled, tapping a boot on the floor impatiently.

Carol appeared behind the counter with a black trench coat in her hands, passing it across as the two women looked each other over.

'That's a beautiful dress.' Ash told the ghoul, who was wearing a short, pale yellow number. Carol smiled at the girl, watching her pull on the coat that was a couple of sizes too big, and pretending to ignore the angry red slashes that she had been looking at, the ones that dotted the Wanderer's left arm.


	9. A Dancing Slave

It was already half past eight and Charon was getting irritated. The bar was practically full, mostly with ghouls but there were a small group of smoothskins here, too. For the last hour he'd had to answer that _Yes,_ the vault girl _would_ be here eventually. _Yes,_ that one, the 'Lone Wanderer'. He made yet another one of his mental notes to pay more attention to the radio, years of zoning out everything but his employers' many voices made him oblivious to current events. It was strange, everyone here seemed to think she was _good._ He'd even heard her be referred to as the 'Saviour of the Wastes', a title that had made him snort with derision. He knew bad people when he saw them, and she was cocky, as well as weird. Not to mention her little display earlier with the girls. Both of them were standing on different tables now, surrounded by patrons and dancing, slowly. They knew what they were doing, had probably been slaves for a long time.

Charon didn't care about anything too much, he knew that was how you got hurt, how things became complicated. But he couldn't ignore the twinge he got in his chest when he thought about the fate of those poor girls tonight, in the Wanderers' hands _or_ Azrukhal's. He supposed it was because they were similar, in a way. He didn't have to wear a slave collar but his contract, in effect, was exactly that. Tearing his eyes from the girls, he looked over to the man who held that contract.

Azrukhal himself was in the best mood Charon had seen him in for a long time. Again and again the fat ghoul's hands rubbed together in delight, and he was grinning from ear to ear. He'd been pouring drink after drink non-stop, and as more and more people crowded in through the doors he'd measured himself a good few shots as well. Charon hoped this meant that he wouldn't be too angry when he heard that the Vault girl wanted to take the dancers for herself, tonight. The bodyguard knew Azrukhal couldn't 'perform' without chems anyway, so if he got drunk enough he would just pass out later, and the Wanderer could take the girls as she wished. It was a shit situation either way, but at least she would be the one cleaning up their bodies, not him. At least he wouldn't have to hurt them, like Azrukhal had often asked him to do.

Looking up to the ceiling, Charon knew the girl had arrived, because the whole bar went silent as the doors swung open. Standing there, arm in arm with Carol, was the Lone Wanderer. She was wearing an open black trench coat, with shorts and a tiny shirt. Charon hadn't realised before that she was so slight. He could snap her like a toothpick, he realised, relishing the thought with a smirk. As the women sashayed past Charon, he heard Azrukhal snap his fingers, taking advantage of the hush that had enveloped the room. The crowd parted like the red sea as Charon advanced to the bar, and his boss beckoned for him to lean down and take an instruction.

'Stand near the girl, don't let anyone get too rowdy with her. I don't need a fight in here or too much excitement, not this early in the evening, anyway.'

Charon straightened himself and nodded, glancing about and finding her standing just a few feet away, already being swarmed by ghouls and humans alike. After a few minutes, Azrukhal leaned over the bar to thrust a whiskey into the girls hand, as she tried her best to address each person haranguing her individually. When Charon noticed her backing ever so slowly towards the wall behind her, he shifted through everyone so that he was right there, between her and the wall.

She turned her head slightly to acknowledge him and said, very loudly, 'Hey there, big boy. You want me to sign something for you, too?'

She was grinning, he could see the side of her cheek and hear laughter in her voice. _Fucking smoothskin,_ thought to himself, scowling. 

For the next hour or two he stood there like a statue, observing the girl as she chatted, laughed and sang with some of the patrons. They were... _enraptured_ by her, shining eyes directed towards her. Even these dregs of society, these petty criminals, the types of people that hung out _here_ of all places worshipped the ground she walked on. It was enough to make Charon even more pissed off.

As if she sensed his mood, she turned to him abruptly and made to pass him the rest of her whiskey, which was still quite full. He made no move to accept it, staring her down, until he heard Azrukhal clear his throat, loudly, from across the bar. Letting out an almost inaudible groan, he snatched the glass from her and downed it in one.

The room dimmed and the music got louder as the tempo shifted to a slower song. Everyone else's eyes had turned to the dancing girls for a moment, including his employer's. Charon lifted his arm slightly, holding eye contact with the Wanderer, and then dropped his glass on the floor at her feet. She cocked an eyebrow at him and made a strange expression, like she was trying not to laugh. Turning back to the crowd, she dismissed herself from everyone and sauntered up to Azrukhal, walking behind the bar to get to him.

Charon wasn't sure what was being said, but he watched as his Employer snaked his arm around the girl's waist, his hand disappearing under her coat. _Disgusting,_ Charon thought to himself as he watched her crack into a smile and whisper something in the fat ghoul's ear hole. Freeing herself from the embrace, she'd snatched a bottle of the expensive stuff from the shelf behind Azrukhal, and was making her way through everyone towards the dancing girls. They had both climbed onto the pool table, and Charon watched as the Wanderer clambered up to join them.

He regarded her dancing with them for a moment, wincing internally every time she ran her hand over one of the dancer's backs or stomachs. The crowd was loving it, and the music had been turned up even more. People were dancing and apart from Patchwork, who had stumbled out a while ago to throw up, everyone was having a good time. Charon figured the party wasn't going to wind down until the early hours, and glanced over at Azrukhal, who nodded at him, once. Charon strode out of the bar, glad to have a moment to himself, and leaned against the wall in the same spot the Wanderer had the night before.


	10. Lights Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys I'm editing these myself so sorry if there's any mistakes! <3

Ash was too hot. She didn't like to take her coat off and expose her ruined arm, so she jumped off the table she had been dancing on and pushed her way back through the people crowding the room. Azrukhal's slimy hand was held out to her between the bodies surrounding the bar, and she took it, letting him pull her to him. Once more, he'd wrapped his arm around her, over the coat at least, this time.

'Are you having fun, smoothskin?' He purred into her ear, sounding a little slurred.

'Oh Azrukhal,' she breathed, 'I'm so fucked up.'

He chuckled, and began to jostle her around a bit, trying to initiate some sort of weird dance. She obliged, swinging around him and taking his hands, giggling and encouraging the customers to 'Drink up, drink up, drink uuuuup!'.

After another hour of drunkenly strutting about, dancing with everyone and drinking with Azrukhal, she pushed her way out to the doors where Charon was standing. Pulling a cigarette out of the packet, she turned to the massive ghoul with a questioning eyebrow. Without comment, he pulled a gold-plated flip lighter out of his pocket and lit her cigarette, watching the smoke curl up and over her scarlet mouth. Ash found it strange that he looked at her with such intensity, but reasoned that she must come across as a right nutcase. A smile pulled at her lips and she winked at him, blowing the smoke towards him and holding his gaze. As quickly as she appeared, she'd ground the cigarette out on the wall and tottered off towards the dancers again.

It had started to get late. Or early, depending how you looked at it. Azrukhal was a blubbery mess, still pouring drinks but obviously nearly spent for the night. Ash was sitting in the corner of the room, on a rust-coloured old armchair. The ghoulette, whose name had turned out to be Martha, was knelt on the floor in front of her, running her hand over the wanderer's legs. The other girl, Chantal, was standing behind the chair rubbing her shoulders. Ash was relaxed, her coat had been pulled down so the slave girl could touch her properly, and though she'd drank more than she meant to, her mind was still ticking away. Most of the patrons had turned in for the night, and Carol had already left to get many of them settled at her place. Charon was standing silently in the corner by the door, and when Ash rose from the chair and took the girls' hands in hers, she saw his eyes follow her as she approached his boss.

'I take it you're happy, Azrukhal?' She queried, leaning on the bar and acting far more tipsy than she really was. Letting go of the girls, she shimmied around so she was behind the bar, still leaning against it.

The ghoul was clearly _very_ happy, and more than a little bit drunk.

'I need to go to bed, but first, a prize for my brilliant and beautiful guest!'

Barely disguising his attempt to leer down her shirt, Azrukhal took her hand, pressing a package into it. The present was bulky, and when she looked down at it she realised it was a shot of ultrajet, usually reserved for ghouls and hardcore addicts.

'This will get you more fucked up than anything you've ever tried, I guarantee it. I can't believe the profit we've made tonight. You are welcome here, anytime. And you're also welcome to take the girls. I had thought I might keep them for myself but you've clearly taken a liking. I underestimated you, my dear.' He spoke all this in a gabbled, slurred tone, but Ash could keep up well.

After planting a wet, sloppy kiss onto her closed hand he turned to his safe to lock it.

'I am leaving, Charon start cleaning up a bit and then retire for the night.' With that, the ghoul hauled himself out from behind the bar and stumbled away.

Without a second glance at Charon, Ash turned to the girls, took their hands again and righted herself, walking out of the bar and heading straight for Carol's. As soon as they were in her room, she straightened herself up and addressed the girls together.

'I'm sorry for that display, in the bar. I had to make the owner think he was doing me a favour by letting me take you, so I hope I didn't make you feel too uncomfortable. My friend, Carol, will be bringing by some clothes for you shortly but right now, I need to take your collars off.'

The girls eyes both widened at this, they knew that interfering with the collars meant their heads would be blown off immediately. Sensing their apprehension, Ash crouched so that she was even smaller and tried to reassure them both.

'I've removed many collars, don't worry. In some places they call me the ' _Destroyer of the chains'_ She mocked, trying to smile and keep the girls calm.

Martha, the ghoulette, stepped forward first, craning her neck away from the collar as much as she possibly could. It only took a few minutes, the Wanderer had collected all the items she needed for the removals and was wary of the time constraints she had. They needed to leave whilst it was still pitch black, and although most of the ghouls would probably be recovering from the night's festivities, Ash needed to be back before tomorrow afternoon. 

Once both the girls were sitting back on the bed, rubbing their necks and looking bewildered, the Wanderer tensed at a knock on the door. Opening it a crack, she saw Carol's ghostly arm shoot through and throw some clothes into the room before disappearing again.

'Alright girls, get those clothes on and take a bag each from the dresser. I put some meds, food and water in them for you. I'll be escorting you to Megaton, or at least as far towards Megaton as I can get you. It's huge, a town surrounded by tall metal walls, you can't miss it. When you get there, tell the Sheriff that 101 sent you, they'll  put you up in the common house and find you some work to do. I'll be along to check on you in a month or so, sooner if I can.'

Their hopeful faces looked up at her, still bewildered but now, there was determination mixed in.

'We wait 20 minutes for this place to settle down, then we go.'

The Wanderer wanted these girls to be OK, _needed_ them to be OK. Out of all the crappy things she had done, it was stuff like this that balanced it all out, made it easier for her to sleep at night. She knew that was a selfish reason for helping people, but Ash thought it was still better than helping no-one at all. Chantal, the dark-haired girl, reached out from her position on the floor by the bed to touch Ash's hand and whispered' Thank you.'

It was enough.


	11. A Choice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dramaaaaa and more graphic-ness in this chapter. <3

Charon was filthy. The bar had been covered in crap and he'd cleaned out most of it, but now his hands were sticky, as were his clothes. He leant over to retrieve his shotgun from the floor and turned to leave, pretty exhausted after the hour he'd just spent cleaning up. He wanted nothing better than to relax for the night, but it was pouring outside and he knew another opportunity to get clean wouldn't present itself for a long while.

Backing out of the bar, he reached over to pull the latch at the top of the door when he heard an almost imperceptible noise behind him somewhere. Lifting his gun, he spun around and was startled by the girl, the Wanderer, standing alone at the top of the stairs behind him. His heart was beating fast in his chest, he'd very nearly pulled the trigger without thinking.

'Shit!' He exclaimed, loudly, watching as she flinched at his tone. 

A whimper from the plant pot in between them made him stride over to look. Behind the pot on the floor were the dancing girls, tucked into a crouch whilst staring up at him, silently crying. Their collars had been removed, and they had been given decent clothes to wear. He took a step back and regarded the Wanderer, connecting the dots in his brain. _She was never going to harm them._

Knowing his employer would order him to kill all three if he alerted him, he wasn't sure what to do. The order hadn't been given yet, so as of right now he opted to stand there, in silence, and observe the vault girl. She had been still so far, but now she was walking over to him, hand stretched over her gun at her belt, closing the distance between them.

She stopped at his feet and tilted her head to look up at him again, dark eyes searching his in the badly lit room. Seconds ticked by and then without taking her eyes from his, she motioned to the girls with her hand and whispered into the air; 'Go. To the doors. Wait for me there. Do _not_ leave the museum until I'm with you. If I don't return to you within ten minutes, go out front and find Willow, she's a ghoul. She will help you.'

The girls didn't need to be told twice, they rushed off behind the Wanderer and down the stairs as quickly as they could. Charon was conflicted. The girl was regarding him coolly, head still cocked, with a flicker of a smile playing on her lips. She took her hand from her shotgun and held them both in front of her, backing away from him slowly. He still had his gun raised, and couldn't believe his eyes when she turned quickly, offering him her back and walking away.

He decided he would let her go. He'd taken punishment from Azrukhal before for things like this and he would again. That first time he refused to hold a woman down for his boss to rape, he hadn't been fed in a month. His body had suffered immensely for it, and it took him almost a year to bring himself back to full capacity after that. He knew he couldn't let the girls die, though. Once someone was dead it didn't matter, Charon didn't care about the dead. They were still kicking, though, and he had felt the Wanderer's urgency, noticed how skittish she was after his loud shout that echoed through the atrium. He hadn't felt anything this close to excitement in an age, and so, he carried on with his night.

Following the Wanderer's path and deciding to keep an eye, he lumbered after them as quietly as he could manage. When he got outside the museum, however, there was no one to be found. The rain was torrential, destroying any trace of smells in the air that he might've used to track the girls. Even Willow wasn't anywhere nearby and so, after circling the building once, Charon tucked himself into an alcove and stripped to wash in the rain.

Soap wasn't easily found in the wastes but Carol made her own version, which smelt of sweetness. These rain-shower things were the highlight of Charon's time in Underwold, and he hadn't been this dirty in a long time. After he'd gotten clean and dressed he decided to stand guard outside for a while. The rain was nice on his cracked skin, the radiation it contained was soothing to him. With Willow being gone, he could even consider it part of his contract to stand here, watching. If any undesirables entered underworld they would be a threat to his employer and he felt he could justify his presence if Azrukhal appeared to ask.

As the morning drew out and got lighter, Charon began to think the Vault girl wouldn't be coming back. He'd worked out that she'd taken the metro tunnels, there's no other way she could've gone that would make any logical sense. Especially with the children. The citadel to the right shot ghouls on sight, and the super mutant stronghold to the left was... well, a super mutant stronghold. Charon lifted himself from the bench he'd been sitting on, deciding to carry out one final parameter check of the museum before retiring inside. He didn't _need_ to sleep very often, but the night's antics had been draining to him.

As he walked, he thought about what Azrukhal would do to him when he found that he'd let the Vault dweller leave prematurely. He knew it wouldn't be pretty, and was slightly hopeful that maybe this time he would die from starvation, or exposure, or whatever the hell it would be. Lost in his thoughts and turning the last corner of the building, the ghoul looked up and was surprised to see the Wanderer, splayed out across the bench he had been sitting on moments ago.

Her coat was gone, and there was blood leaking out of a deep cut to her upper thigh. _Probably a bite,_ Charon decided. _Fucking ferals._ She was soaked, her hair plastered to her head and her chest heaving. As Charon closed the distance between them he could make out trails of blood swirling into the puddles along the road, leading from the metro tunnels. Her shotgun was discarded on the floor, rust-coloured water sluicing down it in the rain. Her pip-boy was hanging over the end of the bench, swinging in the wind. She noticed him as he approached and struggled to pull herself up a little, which was almost comical. Her hand reached out a fraction towards her gun, but she seemed to think better of it and relaxed against the bench again, keeping her eyes on him the whole time. Her injured leg hung from one of the planks uselessly, and her breathing made it clear that the cut was painful, and serious.

'I paid Willow a thousand caps to get them to Megaton. Martha's a ghoul so her and Willow were fine, and I put Chantal in a ghoul  mask, told her to stay close to the other two. Had to fight my way back out...'

Her eyes flickered to his gun and then back to his face. She didn't look scared, in fact she looked peaceful. Charon was reeling, he didn't know what to make of this smoothskin girl, but he was glad the younger ones didn't have to die.

Glad. This was a feeling he hadn't experienced in a long time, and it was nice. Made him feel like a pansy, but nice nonetheless. This one would probably die, now, though. He felt it would be a shame, this 'Hero' that everyone talked about succumbing  finally to _blood loss_ of all things. He wondered why she hadn't tried to help herself. She could've hobbled indoors, at least tried to. Barrows liked her so far, he'd probably have patched her up nicely. But no. She was laying there limply on the bench, a warm smile on her face, eyes unfocused and her breathing shallow. The ghoul was mulling over what Azrukhal would prefer him to do in this situation when she spoke, quietly and through gritted teeth.

'You should stop working for the twisted fucker behind the bar. He's not good people. I've learnt how to sniff out evil and he's it. You, though...'

She was looking up at him now, and her smile had shifted into a sad one. The blood that was leaking out of her leg had enveloped them both, the stain was spreading out around the bench and flowing down into the gutters. She closed her eyes again and tipped her head back into the rain, still smiling that sad smile. Minutes passed and Charon watched as she faded in front of his eyes.

'I fucking love the rain.' She had whispered.

Something inside him made a decision. Leaning over, he scooped her up as gently as his arms would allow. She was definitely unconscious now, eyes rolling into the back of her head. It felt like he was holding nothing, maybe it was his size or her lack of it, he wasn't quite sure. Her skin was freezing to the touch and alabaster white, except for a curious path of jagged red cuts and dark burns reaching across her left forearm. Her head had dropped back over his bicep, and her leg was trailing bright red blood onto the ground. Grabbing her pip-boy and the shotgun, Charon resolved to drop them both back to Carol's later if he had the time.

And so, the seven-foot ghoul carried the girl into the museum as the sun began to rise.


	12. Remember

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Again, please let me know if I've made any editing mistakes,, or if you have any feedback! <3

'A week! I have to lay in this bed for another bloody _week?!'_

She wasn't happy, and the whole of Underworld had probably heard her shouting about it. It was late in the afternoon, and her leg was screaming in pain. There was a dull throbbing in the back of her head, sinking its' claws in harshly and making her temper even worse. Barrows was standing in front of her shaking form, awkwardly shifting his gaze around the room.

'That bite is serious, we must keep an eye for infection. You also got hit on the head, _very_ hard indeed. I do not want to restrain you, but I must _insist_ that you lay quietly, at least for the next two days.' He ducked as a clipboard went soaring past his head.

The Doctor often had to deal with difficult patients, and found that explaining things to them carefully was often the best decision. He was reiterating how important rest was after such significant blood loss when he noticed that she'd gone very quiet. Allowing himself to glance down, he saw that she had stilled herself a bit, and was now looking up at him with a sad expression.

'I'm sorry I threw that. Just put me to sleep for the rest of the day, and ask Carol to come see me, please? I'll be calm.'

The Doctor leaned down and looked her in the eyes, checking her pupils. She seemed to be coherent enough and they hadn't given her pain relief for a few hours, so he obliged her request, slipping a needle into her arm as gently as he could.

It was late when she woke, groping about on the bedside table for her pip-boy. The green light bathed her face and she checked the time; eleven on the dot. The ache in her leg was all but gone now and her head felt less dizzy. _Thank God for Stimpaks,_ was her first coherent thought.

Pulling herself up took effort but once she was sitting, Ash took in her surroundings properly. She was in a big dilapidated room lit only by the glow of her pip-boy and a computer buzzing away in the corner. There were a few other beds around her, all empty. The double doors were propped open and she could see through into a big hall. Underworld. She remembered she was at the clinic and had asked the Doc to make her sleep.

Wondering if she had missed a visit from Carol, Ash was about to try heaving herself out of the bed when she saw the old lady's head pop around the doorframe. A big smile spread across her ghoulish face. Rushing in and perching on the end of the rickety clinic bed, Carol whispered; 'I've been checking on you every half hour. The Doc's gone to sleep for a while, so I was hoping you'd be awake soon. Are you OK? You don't look so hot.'

'I feel like I got whacked with a super-sledge, to be honest. Was it you that dragged me back in here? I'm not really sure what...?' She trailed off, trying hard to remember what had happened after she left Willow and the girls in the tunnels.

Carol was glancing across the bed at her, looking excited and apprehensive at the same time.

'Charon found you. I couldn't sleep, was waiting for you to return and let me know how the rescue went. When it got light in the morning I came down to look for you and I saw him carrying you, limp as a rag doll, through here. He told Azrukhal you must've been drinking more after you left and fell down the escalator, said Willow had fucked off and the ferals had got to you.' The women sat in stunned silence for a moment.

'So he didn't tell Azrukhal the truth.' The wanderer breathed out, glad she wouldn't have to deal with the disgusting man and his anger over the dancing girls.

'I need the bathroom, and a cigarette would go down nicely. Can we go to yours for a bit?' The words had barely left her lips and Carol was pulling her to her feet gently.

'Take it slow, missy. I'm _so_ happy you're not dead.'

Half an hour later, the women were sprawled across one of the beds at the inn, cigarettes dangling from their mouths, listening to the radio in companionable silence. Carol had helped the Wanderer into a new set of clothes, another white T shirt and a pair of black jeans. She'd also bought the girl's shotgun to her, which had been cleaned and repaired by Winthrop, Underworld's 'janitor' . Ash was still in a bit of pain, but she had perked up when she'd been reunited with her gun.

'Cullen!' She'd exclaimed, feeling the delicate parts of the heavy weapon in her hands. Carol had laughed and Ash was surprised to find that it wasn't a common thing, to give your equipment a name. 'He protects me, every day!' The wanderer had countered, pouting.

After chatting a while and reading a magazine together, Carol stood up and motioned for Ash to do so, as well.

'Barrows is already gonna be pissed that I've taken you out of bed, you need to rest more. Let's go, girly.'

They shuffled back down to the clinic together, and after Carol had left and said goodnight, Ash lay back on her bed, listening to the silence. She was too wired to sleep, her brain flicking through her memories. Every now and again, a flash of recognition sparked in her head.

The ferals in the metro had swarmed her as soon as she'd separated herself from the group, and she'd set a bottlecap mine and jumped under one of the old trains. There was more blank space and then she could practically hear the crunching noise again as a glowing ghoul had latched itself onto her thigh, chewing and snarling. She'd shot it straight through the eye, and dragged herself up only to be clubbed in the head by another one, swinging it's heavily-gloved fists around.Ash couldn't recall how she had reached the metro escalators, but she remembered crawling over the top of them and embracing the rain, glad to be away from the foul and mindless ghouls that she'd left behind. The only other thing she could grasp was the feeling of freezing cold and being weightless.

The frustration of not knowing exactly how things had gone down was getting to her, and she pulled herself up from the bed once more. Dragging her crap leg over to the first aid box on the wall and sizing up the lock on it, she reached over to the desk that the computer sat on. Yanking open the drawers, she found what she was looking for almost immediately. For some reason, bobby pins were bloody everywhere in the wasteland, they'd survived the war well. Ash snorted to herself when she thought this as she winkled open the lock on the first aid kid and snatched the Med-X that was inside.

Four shots, and she was small. So she took three, just to be on the safe side. Leaning on the desk for a moment, she stabbed the needles into her uninjured thigh in quick succession. _Don't want to be waking up anytime soon_ she thought to herself, limping on her _stupid_ leg back to the bed. As the world closed in on her and the warmth of the Med-X made its way through her veins, Ash sighed and dozed off.


	13. Another Agreement

Charon was still tired. It had been near on three days now since he'd dragged the Vault brat inside and thrown her onto a bed in the clinic. Barrows had been startled to see him. Apart from Azrukhal's forced annual checkups, Charon was rarely seen outside of the bar, much less inside his clinic. The massive ghoul had walked back out straightaway and slumped into the corner of the Ninth to rest. His boss had given him the third degree that afternoon, annoyed that the girl wouldn't be joining them again for a while. Charon had told him that he'd just found her outside on the floor, injured and intoxicated. He didn't exactly _lie,_ just omitted a few things. Since then, he'd stood in his usual spot, tossing everything around in his head. His boss had been coming and going a lot and when he _was_ present Charon wasn't paying much attention to the portly ghoul's voice droning on and on...

He was intrigued by the Wanderer. Nothing of note ever really happened down here, so having something new to puzzle over gave his mind a little workout. Her face that night, looking up at him from the top of the stairs in the dark. Turning her back to him and his shotgun, trusting him to let her save those slaves. She didn't seem scared of him in the slightest. Maybe a bit cautious, he supposed, but definitely not fearful.

Something else bothered him about that morning, too. She'd taken her pip-boy off, which was a strange thing to do. She had no way of knowing Charon would be outside the museum, and she had known Willow was gone. Her smile as the rain had poured on her face, the fact that she hadn't tried to stem the bleeding from her leg. The cuts and burns that splayed out over her forearm. Charon had the vague idea that she was expecting to die on that bench, in the rain. That she was OK with it.

Therein lay the puzzle. From the ghouls' understanding, humans were craven and fragile. Desperate to hold on to their short little lives with bodies that were soft and pliable, easy to break. Creating little settlements, defences, armor. The only time Charon had known humans to be so self-destructive, not including the damned _atom bombs,_ was when his employers' past captives had committed suicide.

Over the years Charon had been forced to take people, slaves, children, whatever was required.  Sometimes they'd find a way out before he had been instructed to _dispose_ of them. He'd watched one man open his wrists, seen a young woman blow her brains out in a cage with a stolen pistol. There had been others. Almost all of them had the same peaceful, sad-tinged smile on their faces. He could understand _that_ in a way. There had been times in his past when Charon had deliberately not used a stimpak or lowered his gun at just the wrong moment intentionally. Escaping from his contract had consumed his thoughts once upon a time.

What could the _Wanderer_ possibly be trying to escape from?

 

The next afternoon, Charon was daydreaming once more when the object of his musings came barrelling through the doors of the bar. She seemed to be in a hurry, although he didn't fail to notice her staring in his direction for a second before she started to speak to his boss.

'Azrukhal!' She  exclaimed, practically launching herself into a barstool.  'A hundred thanks for sending your man to come get me. Fucking ferals, I don't even remember how I got outside that night! How are you doing?'

Azrukhal's face was set in a big beaming smile. He had wanted to check on the girl in the clinic if she hadn't perked up in the next few days. He got the impression Barrows didn't like him though and preferred to keep clear of the Doctor if he was honest.

'All the better for seeing you my flower. Charon and I were delighted to be of some assistance. I thought it best he check on you before bed you see, dear.'

The big ghoul standing in the corner didn't look over, he was used to staying out of the conversation and even more accustomed to his employer taking all the credit for his deeds. Normally it didn't bother him, but the ghost of the girl's weight was still in his arms, he had been thinking about that night far too much. The Wanderer was so confident, so sarcastic and loud. Listening to her now, animatedly chatting away and playing his boss like a fiddle, he couldn't reconcile the two impressions he had of her.

An hour went by and Charon's employer got stinking drunk, as did the girl. A few times he thought he heard his name mentioned quietly, but he wasn't certain.  There had been more patrons every night since that first big party, and the general mood of the room was good. It was getting late once more, and Charon watched as the smoothskin stumbled up to him at the end of the night.

'Rivet city tomorrow, ghoulie!' She'd laughed, 'You and me, on the road.' 

_Fantastic._ The ghoul knew he was expected to go to the rusting bucket of bolts people referred to as 'Rivet City' at some point. He didn't like it there, it felt beyond stupid, hundreds of people like sitting ducks on board an old ship. The vault girl had imparted this information and then looked over to Azrukhal. Seeing he was preoccupied, she had taken a step closer to Charon. He thought she would say something, it looked like she wanted to, but she just tilted her head again like she had that night on the stairs. The same bemused and wary expression was painted across her face. She'd looked down at the floor again and walked out.


	14. Your Call

The next morning, Ash was ready to leave. She didn't have to pack up all of her things, the owner was happy to keep her room closed to the public for a few days, seeing as she was to return. Knowing that the trip would probably be uneventful, the Wanderer had settled on just taking some medical supplies, a bit of food and some spare ammo for her shotgun. Winthrop had repaired and lined her vault suit for free, which was such a nice gesture Ash had given him a big hug and decided to pick up as much scrap metal for him as she could out on her journey. Carol herself was hovering around the foyer, looking worried.

'That fat old lecher. He could've hired a merc for crying out loud, why do _you_ have to go to Rivet? You're like a cute little bug! Please come back safely, I haven't had this much fun with a visitor in a long time.'

Ash walked over from the sofa she had been sitting on and wrapped her arms around the old ghoul. 'I will be back, and I'll bring some treats from Rivet, don't you worry. I have a good feeling, trust me.'

Although she wanted to reassure Carol, Ash wasn't feeling so confident internally. Last night she had spoken with Azrukhal regarding Charon and his contract, and the conversation had made her feel sick.  Turned out, Charon didn't work _with_ Azrukhal at all. Neither did he work _for_ him. He was, in effect, a brainwashed puppet. Used to carry out Azrukhal's bidding and protect him from any harm. The wobbling old ghoul had explained how Charon was obligated to serve his 'Employer', the person who holds his contract. Whoever holds the contract, commands the man.

How had Azrukhal described it? _Unfailing, Unflinching. Until the day that employment ends._ Ash had been mortified at this admission, but had curled her lips into an attractive smile and laughed along with Azrukhal about it, not wanting to draw attention to her hands shaking around her whiskey.

She'd been given a week, give or take a day, by Azrukhal. She was expected to be back from Rivet City with an intact Charon in that time as well as securing a trade deal with _A Quick Fix_ , Rivet's chem suppliers. The trip should take four days at the most, she had thought, maybe even  three considering she'd have Charon's extra firepower at her back.

The idea of travelling with Charon was very exciting to Ash. She used to enjoy fighting, before her dad died. It had been a while since she found any sport in it, but she was greatly interested in watching Charon in combat. She wondered if he would be slow because of his height, or maybe he'd surprise her. Since the night that he'd let her rescue the slaves, she'd had... _conflicting_ thoughts about the massive ghoul. His sheer size was tantalising to her, and although she'd never found a ghoul attractive before, his stern expression and towering height did weird things to her stomach. On the other hand he may have been instructed by his boss to kill her before they returned and from what she'd been told of his contract, he would do it without hesitation.

_Dangerous,_ she thought to herself, as she made her way to the doors of underworld to wait for Charon. Checking her pack over to make sure nothing had been forgotten, she had only been standing at the doors for five minutes or so when she saw him making his way towards her down the stairs. That same stoic expression covered his face, dark red eyebrows knitted together in a harsh scowl. Frosty bright eyes were trained on her and she felt herself shiver under her vault suit, even though she wasn't cold. He wore fingerless gloves and his shotgun was hanging from a belt slung across his chest. One of his arms was uncovered, and the skin was a tanned reddish colour with patches of exposed muscle running across it. His armor was still usable, but looked like it had seen better days and Ash resolved to grab him a new set when they reached their destination. She waited to see if he would address her but he just pushed the doors open as he strode past and carried on out to the wastes.

Jogging a few paces to keep up, Ash joined him outside the museum and they both stood still. They were right next to the bench that Charon had found her on the week before, and she realised she hadn't spoken to him regarding that night as of yet.

'Charon?' she said, trying to sound confident. 'Thankyou for helping me the other night. I didn't think I'd make it to be honest and well... thanks, I guess.'

He didn't acknowledge that she'd spoken, which was fine by her because she was still pretty embarrassed about how badly she had planned everything that night. She flickered her thoughts back to strategies for travel. On this trip to Rivet City Ash actually needed to stay alive. She was sure that Charon could easily make his way back to underworld alone if she fell on the journey, but she had always taken her responsibilities to others seriously. Bringing Charon back to underworld was important, and so she resolved to try and be a bit less reckless for the next few days.

'We take the tunnels. I killed a lot of the ferals in there last time so it's the easiest way. Unless you have any input?'

She had asked, peering over at Charon, who was still looking pretty pissed off.

'Your call.' Came the reply.

Ash sighed, thinking that this trip was going to be a very dreary one indeed.  


	15. Could You Care?

The rusty gates of the metro had ground back together with a clang after they'd descended into the tunnels. The girl had turned on her pip-boy light for a second and fished around in her vault suit before sliding a silencer out of it and screwing it onto the end of her pistol.

'No shooting unless you absolutely _have_ to, OK, Charon?' She'd instructed, and he'd nodded his agreement whilst taking in his surroundings.

On the floor covering almost every inch of the old concrete were feral ghouls. There must've been about forty of them, arms stretched out, mouths twisted into a final screech. He knew Willow was a good shot, but she would've been ignored by the monsters, being  a ghoul herself. _Sheer luck must've allowed the Wanderer to survive down here._

They were in complete darkness now, and Charon knew her vision wasn't as good as his. He made to stride ahead and take advantage of the fact that he could see, but he felt a little cold brush on his forearm before he could get too far. The touch only lasted a second, and he turned to realise that she was on her tiptoes, leaning into his ear to whisper to him.

'Follow me, and stay quiet.' Her breath tickled his face and he could smell a hint of grape mentats, which made his mouth water.

He hoped they would be eating sooner rather than later, and wondered whether they would be spending the night in these dark tunnels.  He would've preferred to take point in front of the vault dweller, but when he saw what she was doing he relaxed a little. She stepped forward purposefully and yet she was silent. He watched as she hopped over some rubble, landing gracefully like a cat. She knew where they were going without having to consult her pip-boy, he noted. They carried on through the tunnels, her pausing here and there to listen out for ferals. They'd been making a steady pace for a few hours when she stopped at a ladder leading up to a hatch in the ceiling.

The girl looked back in his direction with a serious face.

'Up there is the main station. We need to pass through but it's crawling with zombies. There are also landmines, fucking _everywhere._ As long as we don't get noticed we'll be fine, but if the ferals run at us there's likely to be explosions. This place is old as fuck and we'll probably be buried if that happens, so let's try and be cool alright?'

Charon didn't respond, but watched as she ascended the ladder slowly. Her vault suit had been patched up and was a bit tighter on her now, and the burly ghoul couldn't help but notice the soft curve of her ass. Now it was Charon who tilted his head to one side, allowing himself to be distracted for just a second whilst she pushed open the hatch above her. Knowing she couldn't tell in the dark, he'd kept his eyes on her body until she disappeared through the ceiling.

They stood in a large hall filled with rubble and junk. There was a destroyed train sitting on one of the tracks that cut through the middle of the room and two more gaping tunnels on either side of the hall leading off in opposite directions. It was still very dark, but Charon could make out the little glow of the individual lights dotting the train track that was underneath them. _Mines, like she said._ Luckily he couldn't see any that were on the platform, which was where they were now crouching and appraising their surroundings. There was a raised walkway next to them which led off to the outside world, but their destination was still a few stations away.

The pair slowly advanced forwards a few feet then stopped immediately as they both started to hear the moaning and scratching noises coming from behind. Feral ghouls were blocking the entrance to one of the tunnels. Thankfully, it wasn't the tunnel that led to Rivet City. A group of them stood on the platform, shuffling and groaning to themselves sporadically. Charon watched as the girl carried on sneaking forwards, noting the landmines that were coming up. There were two, sitting on the platform right ahead of the route they needed to take, flashing ominously. The Wanderer turned back to him again, and pressed herself closely to him.

'I'm going to disarm those mines.' She whispered. 'Keep an eye on the ferals, yeah?'

Charon wanted to argue. He gripped her shoulder before she went to sneak off and looked at her fiercely. This was _not_ safe and he wasn't happy that she was being so reckless. Infuriatingly, she wriggled out of his grasp and almost danced away in complete silence. She was getting closer and closer to the first mine when Charon noticed a slight green tinge to the walls where he was crouched. His head whipped round, checking in all directions for the source of the glow, although he was already pretty sure he knew what it was.

From the sloped entrance just above the platform came a glowing one, a feral ghoul so deeply irradiated that it shone brightly in the dark. Charon needed to think fast. He'd lined up the luminous threat in his sights and held his shotgun ready, but was calculating the best course of action. If he shot the glowing one, the rest of the ferals would overwhelm the pair straight away. If he didn't shoot, the glow would reveal the girl in a moment, and the ferals would still come running. He looked over to see that the Wanderer had noticed their predicament. He could hear her heartbeat as it started going wild, smell her adrenaline in the air. The ferals were bound to notice in a second, too. Just as the glowing one sniffed in her direction and opened its' mouth to howl, Charon heard the small metallic 'beep' that meant she'd disarmed the first mine. He fired a round into the glowing ghoul's head, blowing it to pieces.

Everything seemed to move in slow motion as Charon ran over to the Wanderer. Covering ground in a few short strides, he grabbed her by the back of her vault suit and launched them both into the tunnel.  He managed to wrap himself around her as a huge explosion sounded out behind them and chunks of concrete began to rain down from above. One of the ghouls must have tripped the second mine, bringing down the tunnel entrance to the main station and forcing Charon to scrabble backwards with the girl hanging limply in his grasp.

The air was thick with dust and Charon didn't like the creaking noises that were coming from the thick walls surrounding them. At least none of the ghouls had gotten through when the ceiling came down, and his charge hadn't been crushed. He had had taken a broken metal pipe to the calf and was bleeding quite heavily, but it was nothing he couldn't handle and it's not as if the girl  would want to waste any precious meds on him. He'd wrapped his leg up in a scrap of cloth from his pack before checking her over once again, although her groans told him that she was probably just in shock. The sound of the explosion had rung Charon's ear holes, so her head must've been in pain.

After a few moments he watched her stand shakily and check herself over, hands pulling down the zip on her vault suit and tying the sleeves around her waist. She had a slim grey vest on underneath it, and he could see that her upper arms were covered in goosebumps. 

'Fuck' She'd exclaimed, pushing her fringe away from her face with a trembling hand.

Finally her head shot up, as though she'd only just remembered that she wasn't alone.

'Charon? Charon!' She whispered as loudly as she dared, her expression wary.

Her eyes focused on him at long last and he was surprised when she exclaimed 'Thank _God_!', letting out her breath in a whoosh. 'Are you alright? For a minute there I thought you'd been buried.'

Charon glanced down at the girl and made a dismissive noise. Turning towards an alcove behind him in the wall, he motioned to the door there, marked 'Utility Closet'.

'You need to rest.' He growled, advancing to the door and leaning against it with his shoulder, heaving it open.

'Oh, he speaks! It's aliiiiiiiiive' she joked, waltzing past him with her arms outstretched.

He was about to let out an exasperated sigh when an audible 'thwack' stole his attention. She'd smacked her head hard on a dangling light fixture that had come away from its' place. Charon snorted, a smirk blossoming across his lips, before grinding the door shut behind them and crouching to avoid said light fixture. The girl was sitting on the concrete floor, legs crossed with one hand on her forehead. Charon couldn't smell blood so he left her to it, choosing to lower himself into a metal bench that lined one wall in the little room. It was basic, a main area littered with old equipment and cleaning products, with a little washroom off to the side.

'Here,' her voice rang out in the semi-dark, and Charon accepted the Nuka-cola and cram that she held out for him. They sat, eating quietly for about half an hour, both thinking about the events that had just taken place in the tunnels. Charon was ready to get moving again soon and was about to say so, when he heard her gasp. On high alert, he got to his feet and looked around the room, but couldn't make out any immediate threats. Puzzled, he'd glanced back at her to find she'd crawled to his side and was looking up at him with a hurt expression.

'You're bleeding, Charon. Why didn't you say?!'

He noticed that a thick dark pool of blood had spread around the foot of the bench and she was kneeling in it. He must've bandaged the cut badly, and would have to re-do it. Before he could even sit back down the girl had started to roll his pant leg up, turning on her pip-boy light and rummaging through her pack. Charon had to remind himself to close his mouth. She was gently unwrapping the cloth he'd used earlier, touching his leg _of her own free will._ Smoothskins as a general rule did _not_ touch ghouls.

When he saw her pull out a stimpak he broke free from his thoughts and grabbed her wrist before she could stick it anywhere.

'You will need those. Do not waste them.' She didn't answer except to make a tutting noise in her mouth and then she stabbed the needle into his leg, rubbing the spot straight after with one of her tiny fingers.

When she looked up at him with big eyes, concern written across her face, he could almost convince himself it was genuine.


	16. Crisp and Delicious

Dog-tired, Ash was looking for somewhere to stop and rest. The last hour or so had passed uneventfully except for the dull ache in her head getting steadily stronger.

They'd maintained a quick enough pace through the metro stations and had just passed through Seward Square (Southeast). Anacostia Crossing was less than an hour away but the lone Wanderer knew she couldn't keep walking any longer. Charon had been charging ahead every now and again so his leg couldn't be _too_ fucked up, but hers was aching from the recently-healed ghoul bite. She knew there was another utility closet coming up a little further into the tunnel ahead, and so she motioned for Charon, behind her, to stop. When he was close enough, she asked him to go check the utility room and he shuffled off without saying anything. _Well, what else is new?_ She thought, sighing to herself as she pulled the disarmed landmine from earlier out of her pocket.

Charon leaned out from the room and signalled that it was clear. 'If you need to pee or anything come out here and do it now, I'm rigging this landmine up and hiding it over there.' She pointed in the direction of Anacostia.  Charon just disappeared back into the closet, pulling the door shut behind him. Ash walked a little way up the tunnel, leaned down for a wee and then set the landmine a few feet farther up. She'd spent months studying explosives and knew exactly where to place it for maximum effectiveness should anyone take a trip down the tunnels tonight.

When she returned to Charon, she realised he was likely to be  _really_ hungry. A big guy like that probably needed feeding often. She set about pulling the rest of the food that she'd bought out of her bag, sitting on the floor cross-legged. Two cans of Pork'n'Beans, two boxes of potato crisps, two mirelurk cakes, two sweetrolls and the piece de resistance; two fresh apples. Charon was standing in the corner, and Ash snapped her fingers in the air to get his attention.

'There anything here you don't like?'

He stepped over and crouched to look more closely and spoke again slowly, for the first time in ages.

'No. Are they fresh apples?'

She nodded and with a sly look on her face, held one out to him. He took it, as well as his half of everything else and stretched out opposite her on the ground. Whilst he ate, she shook out her bedroll and a blanket and cracked open a Nuka-cola, settling down with a cigarette between her lips. She waited until the ghoul had finished eating and then lit it, laying down onto her bedroll whilst exhaling.

'Do you sleep?' She'd asked into the darkness.

'Not as much as you.' Came the blunt reply.

'You want to sleep?' She said. 'I can take first watch or whatever...' She could feel him regarding her in the darkness before he answered; 'Not a chance, smoothskin.'

'Suit yourself,' she'd shot back. After getting up to rinse her mouth out with some water and baking soda, she spat it out in what was left of the washroom's sink. Zipping up her vault suit and pulling off her pip-boy,  she slid back into her makeshift bed and curled into a ball to sleep.


	17. Psycho

Charon had been relaxing against the washroom doorframe, surveying the room and the girl as she slept. Everything was silent and his thoughts were beginning to slow down when another loud explosion rocked the utility closet and shocked the girl awake. Instantly in combat mode, Charon was about to swing open the door when she'd flattened herself against it, shaking her head with a harsh look on her face.

Her hair was sticking out everywhere and she looked half asleep but he stopped for a second and let her winkle to door open an inch to peer through. When she turned back to him and mouthed the word 'raiders' with three fingers held up, he'd bundled her back through into the washroom and growled under his breath for her to 'Stay. Here.' He assumed he must've looked fierce enough, because she didn't follow him back out to the door. He could hear footsteps echoing in the tunnels approaching their position and steeled himself for a fight.

The first raider had been shot to bits as soon as she'd pulled open the door, Charon's grip on his shotgun firm and steady. The other two had thick metal armor on and managed to push their way into the room, using the unfortunate female raider's body as cover. They separated and Charon could only hope that the vault girl didn't get noticed whilst he grappled with the first one that was shooting at him with a crappy pipe pistol. Ignoring the bullets that were coming towards him, the ghoul had reached over and ripped off the raider's chestplate, unloading a fatal shot into the bottom of his throat. Just before he pumped another shot into him for good measure, he felt a harsh sting in the side of his neck.

He swung around to face the last raider, who had danced back out of reach and was taunting Charon. He waved his knife in the air, laughing as the ghoul's blood dripped off its' serrated edge. Charon was about to advance when he heard a quiet little 'whoosh' and the raider started screaming and dropped to the floor, arms flailing uselessly. The Wanderer had shot out the guy's kneecap from behind, and was now pressed up into him as he knelt on the ground with her arm around his neck. The sharp, metallic smell of blood was thick in Charon's mind and he lowered his gun, kicking the raider's knife out from near him.

'Ooh, you didn't see me there did you?' The girl said, her voice dripping with sugar.

She held her pistol in the air so it was out of the guy's reach. Her other hand stretched down from around his neck, reaching over his chest with fingers spread wide, keeping him as still as possible. Her lips were next to the raiders' ear as she continued to speak

'Too busy focusing on the big guy, huh? That's sad for you. The big guy,' She looked up at Charon as she said this, and he noticed how alive she looked, how excited. 'He shoots people's heads off. Quick. Painless. Me?' A little chuckle passed her lips as she pressed the gun down onto the raiders' good bent knee, still holding him with her other hand against his chest, pressing into his back with her body.

She'd shot through his other kneecap and stood, watching the man writhe and scream on the ground. When Charon had raised his shotgun to end his suffering, she'd placed her hand on his arm.

'Let him bleed out.'

They were close to Rivet City, now. It had been about three hours since the kneecap incident and Charon still felt a little wary. The girl had surprised him, yet again, with her thirst for blood. The look in her eyes when she'd pulled that trigger, relishing the man's screams of terror, had intrigued the ghoul. He had developed an enjoyment for killing over the years, when it was warranted, and what he had seen in her reminded him of that. She'd collected together all their belongings in the utility closet, drawing on a cigarette and watching the raider bleed to death in agony. Charon had followed when she turned on her heel and left, watching as she kissed the tip of her silenced pistol and tucked it back into her vault suit.

Halfway up the next tunnel she'd offered to take a look at the wound on his neck but he could feel that it had already stopped bleeding and batted away her concerns with a dismissive snort. Because their night of sleep had been interrupted, they were about to get to Rivet City before it was actually open, the time being about five in the morning. There was a raider encampment in the station that they needed to leave through, but the platform was silent when they finally clambered up to it, and the pair snuck out through the metro gates with ease.

When they reached the top of the stairs leading from the metro, the girl sighed happily. It was pouring with rain once more and she unzipped her vault suit, tying the arms around her waist.

'We wait here  until seven. That's when security comes and they'll let us in.' She'd explained, before rushing through the rain over to shelter underneath a tall, rusted structure that jutted from the ground.

Charon had been to Rivet City before and knew that the entrance was reached by climbing the hulking metal and crossing the swing bridge. She had offered him a cigarette, which he had accepted. Her hands were shaking as she passed it over and Charon briefly wondered if she was sick. Settling on a dry-ish patch of ground they relaxed for the next few hours in the rain, sitting on the floor in silence.


	18. Charity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys hope you're enjoying so far! Thanks so much to everyone who has read this and enjoys it! As ever please let me know if I've missed any mistakes! <3

Rivet City. Ash had the same feeling of reproach every time she crossed this bridge. The huge ship that the settlement consisted of was old and imposing, its' metal walls groaning loudly in the air. Harkness, the head of Rivet's security team, was happy to see her as usual. He was a nice guy who was good at his job, and also happened to be an android living as a human. Waving them through the door and eyeing Charon warily, he stopped them before they started to descend the stairs.

'I'll announce that you're here, give me a moment-' He'd started, before Ash had cut him off and asked him with steel in her voice _not_ to do that. 

'We'll be at the Weatherly. _Stop_ staring at him.' She'd laughed, nodding her head in Charon's direction.

As they headed for Rivet City's hotel, Ash sighed quietly. 'The welcoming committee will be waiting for me in the marketplace. I need to get freshened up before I see anyone. We'll go to the chem dealers first thing and then I have some trading to do; you can wait in the hotel room or you can come with me, whatever you'd prefer.'

Charon didn't respond, and Ash let out another, much louder sigh.

'You want your own room or what?' She said, as they neared the reception desk.

'I will stay where you would like me to.' He replied, his voice gravelly and clipped.

After checking them into a room and slamming the door shut behind them, Ash threw all of her belongings onto the floor except for Cullen, who she placed gently on the bed. The room was large and had a bathroom attached with running water, which she was desperate to make use of. Charon had settled on a chair in the corner of the room, beginning to unload and dismantle his shotgun methodically.  Ash ran the shower and closed the bathroom door behind her, stripping off quickly and turning to appraise herself in the grubby mirror. Her body pissed her off, she was small and slight but had thick legs and a little fold of belly fat sitting just below her hips that ruined her otherwise flat stomach. Her breasts were small, the nipples tiny and round, stiff and pink in the cold. Her skin was pale like marble and she had dark circles under her eyes, which were dull and flat.

The water pressure in the hotel was awful but the water itself was burning hot, and she closed her eyes in the shower, letting it roll over her head and face. When she stepped out half an hour later, she was bright pink and soft all over. She let herself air-dry and rinsed her mouth out at the sink with baking soda, resolving to get her hair cut soon as well. Once she was dressed again, she sauntered out of the bathroom to find Charon sitting at the chair with his shotgun resting on his lap.

'Ready to go secure Azrukhal's deal?' She asked him as she flounced out of the hotel room, waiting for him in the hallway with her hand on the door.

Slamming it behind them both and locking it, she motioned for Charon to lead the way and they both continued on to the marketplace.

The marketplace in Rivet City was bustling and busy, even though it was still early. It was situated in what used to be the ship's hangar deck, which was massive. Little stalls decorated with mannequins and fairy lights were spread out through the deck. Ash knew all the vendors individually from her travels throughout the wastes, but she hadn't been seen in Rivet City for a long while. It hadn't made a difference that Harkness hadn't announced her arrival over the intercom system; there was a crowd of about twenty people waiting for her at the foot of the stairs.

It didn't matter how many times this happened, Ash still felt nervous and overwhelmed with the expectant sea of faces that looked up at her whenever she arrived at a settlement or town. Getting jostled and bumped was her biggest problem, as a general rule she didn't let anyone get up in her face but she could hardly be rude to a whole town of people. This time though, everyone kept their distance a little more and Ash looked behind her to see that it was Charon who was causing the effective barrier. He obviously didn't enjoy being surrounded and had a thick grimace plastered to his face. Signing things and trying to stay calm whilst she chatted, Ash took half a step back so that she was even closer to her temporary bodyguard and felt a lot less uncomfortable.

After about forty minutes, most of the drifters had dispersed and the two were free to continue past the shops and into ' _A Quick Fix'_.

The Cantellis were a strange couple. Paulie was constantly high off his tits and his wife had clearly had enough of it. Not surprising when chems are your livelihood, although how _anyone_ stayed sober in the wastes was a mystery to Ash. Psycho was Paulie's drug of choice; an injectable rage-inducing chem that caused serious long term effects. Ash was glad it was Cindy who was standing in the stall today, because dealing with Paulie would've worsened her already cloudy mood. Cindy was a tall woman with flawless dark skin and an irritable edge to her. When she was nervous or excited she spoke quickly and today was no exception.

'I've been expecting you, Wanderer! It's been a long time, you've gone all _mysterious stranger_ on me!' Cindy exclaimed, pulling Ash into a quick hug.

'Charon.' She nodded towards him; remembering him from several other deals that she had done with Azrukhal in the past.

'Cindy!' Exclaimed Ash, 'I'm sorry its' been so long. Saving the world takes  _time,_ you feel me?' The women laughed together for a moment, both relaxing at the same time.

'So, I have everything the ghoul asked for here already,' She gestured to a white box on the stall's counter. 'The agreed price was three-thousand caps for the lot, but seeing as I'm happy to see you, and it's _you_ I'll knock five hundred off.' Before Ash could argue, Cindy had stuffed the box in a bag and thrust it towards Charon, who had accepted it wordlessly.

Ash passed over the bag of caps from Azrukhal with a grin, thanking Cindy and asking if she'd like drinks at the rudder later. After organising a get together for that evening and Cindy offering to get the first round, Ash turned to Charon and passed him the extra five hundred caps that had been saved. 'We are going to go grab something to eat at the Galley and then you can take those chems back to the hotel room and chill. You should grab a shower, the water here is to _die_ for.'

Full to bursting and alone once more, Ash set about replenishing some supplies. Stopping off at Flak 'N Shrapnel's was her first port of call; remembering she wanted to get some armor for Charon as well as replenish her stock of ammo. Shrapnel was at the stall today; he and Flak were ex-raiders and though they'd both had a change of vocation, it was still easy to tell what they used to be. Especially in Shrapnel's case. He wore modified raider armor that was still quite intimidating, and his manner left a lot to be desired. Several times Shrapnel had spoken to her like she was a complete idiot, but nowadays he did it out of habit, not because he still thought of her as a rookie to the wastes. He had a light dusting of grey facial hair and sharp blue eyes, and Ash had thought to herself a couple of times that he was handsome indeed for an older man. He was sat on a threadbare sofa in the back of the stall, and Ash had her arms full of ammo and mine components when she decided to ask him about armor for Charon. Gently letting her purchases roll onto the counter, she looked Shrapnel in the eye and gave him a flirty smile.

'You see that big ghoul bodyguard I bought in with me today?' She asked, as Shrapnel gave her items the once over and totted up her total in his head.

'Sure as shit I did, probably just as well, you _need_ a bodyguard to make up for your aim.' He teased, shaking open a bag and sliding Ash's ammo into it. 'What do you need? That shotgun of his looked like it's seen better days; you want some spare parts?'

She accepted the box of spare shotgun parts and then explained that she needed some armor for Charon, and asked Shrapnel whether he thought anything at all in the wasteland would fit the big guy. Promising her he'd go through their stock and find something 'fit for a fucking behemoth!', Shrapnel wrapped everything up tightly in a box and offered to run it over to the Weatherly's front desk for her. Accepting his offer, she paid up and left the gun store with a big grin on her face, feeling so much more relaxed than she had moments ago.

It was  _nice_ to have friends, even if they only helped her out because she was the 'Saviour of the Wastes', she thought. 


	19. Bearing Gifts

The steam in the bathroom made it almost impossible to see but it was soothing and warm. He'd been thinking about the girl, and it had struck him as he was crouching under the trickle of water that he didn't know her name. It didn't really matter to him but it seemed a bit ridiculous to keep thinking of this _Lone Wanderer_ woman as simply 'the girl.' Charon unfolded himself from the shower, cursing the architects of Rivet City under his breath. Rising to his full height, he gave his body a once over in the mirror whilst towelling off. His skin was pliable but clean, and had a light brown tinge to it all over. Patches of exposed muscle were dotted over his body and his face was redder than usual from the hot water in the shower. He felt lighter and when he heard the door open in the main room, he dressed as quickly as he could. It struck him before he turned the handle to the bathroom door that for the first time in a _long_ time, his mood was almost pleasant.

He'd been in the shower for at least an hour, soaking up the heat and trying to relax. The girl was waiting on the bed, legs crossed and looking up at him expectantly with an almost excited expression on her face.

'What?'' He'd muttered, forgetting his train of thought.

She jerked her head towards the desk in the corner of the room, which was now covered with snacks and drinks. A large box was sitting in the middle of the table. She said nothing, so he made his way around the bed and reached out to open it.

The box was full of shotgun parts, and Charon didn't look round at her but listened as she said; 'I figured you're just as in love with yours as I am with mine.. Anyway, some of the parts are new, some aren't. Once you've kitted yours out I'll give Cullen a once-over, too.'

Charon had to fight the urge to roll his eyes. Naming your guns was a juvenile thing to do, and suggested naïveté. He turned back to her, the trace of a smile on his lips. He found he w _anted_ to ask her, so he did.

'What is your name?'

The girl didn't answer for a long minute and when she did, it began with an apology.

'Sorry, it's been a long time since anyone asked me that...My name is Ash, but as I'm sure you've noticed, people don't really like to use it. It's always 'Lone wanderer' this or '101' that. I'm not a real person with a name anymore. So you can call me whatever the fuck you want.' She said it nonchalantly, but Charon felt a slight pang in the pit of his stomach. He knew what it was like to be considered an object, a thing for other people's amusement or use. To have your name taken away and then bestowed upon you again on a whim.

Deciding that the talking part of the afternoon was concluded, Charon sat at the chair next to the desk and observed the girl. She was fussing over her hair in the little cracked mirror on the bathroom door, then she turned to the side to check herself out. Charon hadn't been this close to a woman who wasn't screaming at the sight of him in... a long time. This girl, this _Ash,_ was bold. Or maybe stupid, he wasn't sure. His eyes travelled down her body, stopping at her tiny waist. His hands were very big and Charon knew that they would fit the entire way around her, a thought which made him uncomfortable, though he didn't know why. When he refocused his mind he realised that she had noticed his eyes on her and was standing facing him now, hands on hips, one eyebrow cocked. Charon turned his head to clear his throat, and when he looked at her again she was rummaging around in her pack.

'I'm going out to the Rudder for drinks later, you coming?' She asked, seeming to find what she was looking for.

Charon considered for a moment. He didn't enjoy drinking however this would probably be his only chance in a long time to try and get wasted. On the other hand, his body ached from their journey to Rivet and he was interested in the gun parts she had bought earlier. The idea of relaxing in a hotel room and doing what he liked for a few hours was appealing. He decided to stay in the room, and shook his head slowly in response to her.

'OK, I'll see you in a while then. 'Oh, I nearly forgot! Here.' She had crossed the room and placed the stuff from her pack on the desk; a couple issues of _Guns and Bullets_ and a very new looking carton of cigarettes. 'Obviously the snacks are for you too, although if you get really hungry you can ask the front desk to bring food to my room. I try not to take advantage of all the 'Lone Wanderer' bullshit but hey, it's the least they can do for stealing my name, right?'

She turned and waltzed out the door, a smile on her face and a spring in her step.

Charon couldn't believe his luck. It wasn't often that he got to take small comfort in things but this afternoon looked like it would be a comfortable one _indeed._ The girl wasn't his employer; he didn't need to behave as if Azrukhal was right there, watching over his shoulder. As he lit a cigarette, cracked open a Nuka-Cola and got started emptying the box of parts, he thought again about the fact that he actually felt something besides boredom and hunger.

As he worked, he considered the girl, wondering why she was treating him so much like.. well, like a _person._ The last few times he'd been to Rivet City he had been expected to stand on deck overnight, keeping watch in the bitter wind. She seemed to w _ant_ him there, even choosing for them to share a room. The same uncomfortable feeling spread over him, the one he felt earlier when he looked at her waist in that tight vault suit. Charon knew he wasn't human, and never would be again. He thought about her name, rolling it around in his head.

_Ash_. What is left after everything has burnt down.


	20. Drink Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much to all of you that have left kudos or commented or anything! It's hard to put yourself out there and because I haven't written before, It's kinda scary too! Love you all, even if you don't like the writing. Peace and Love!!! <3

Ash smiled into the mirror, her face transformed into angular cheekbones and wide eyes. Butch was her go to guy when it came to her hair, and he never failed to disappoint. She glanced up at him now, her smile deepening as she took in his slicked-back 'do and leather jacket. He always wanted to look like such a badass, even though he was a _barber_ of all things.

'Lookin' good, girl. Good enough to eat if you catch my drift.' He'd winked at her when he said this, and she rolled her eyes for the hundredth time since she'd sat down in the chair. It had taken about an hour and Butch was refusing to take any caps from her, so when he was finished she'd linked arms with him and dragged him to the Rudder where Cindy was already waiting at the bar.

'Look who it is, I'm a lucky man tonight, huh?' Butch had laughed as they settled down into some chairs.

Cindy had already ordered shots, which were the Muddy Rudders' specialty. The whole room was littered with empty shotglasses, they even covered the pool table in the corner upstairs. Cindy and Butch knew each other well and the three of them settled into a pattern of companionable chit-chat. Ash liked the rudder, it was a place where you could get hammered, no questions asked, no nonsense involved. Belle, the owner, would even keep the place quiet when _the Wanderer_ was in town, knowing that she preferred to drink without swarms of people bothering her every five minutes.  The night passed by in a flurry of Butch's flirting and Cindy's laughter, permeated with calls for more alcohol every time Ash finished her drink. They had just finished discussing a recent super mutant attack near Anacostia when Cindy fixed Ash with a naughty look before asking about Charon.

'What's the deal with the silent giant?'

'Oh, Charon?' Ash smiled, 'Temporary bodyguard, he's kind of a merc. What about him?'

'He's huge.' Cindy started. 'Is he _just_ a ghoul?'

'I think so but I'm not sure, he doesn't like to divulge a lot of info. His boss is a dickwad though.' Ash snorted into her drink, slurring the insult a bit.

Cindy was definitely drunk now, because between laughing and balancing on her stool, she whispered very loudly into Ash's ear that 'ghoul or not, she would climb him like a tree!' Which forced Ash into a descent of uninterrupted giggling.

Butch was watching the ladies with a surprised look on his face. 'Come on girls, you got the wasteland's hottest hairdresser here and you're talking about the zombie? What the fuck?!' He was only half-joking, Ash could tell when he tossed his drink back and stood to leave.

'Wait, Butch! Walk with me, you're at the Weatherly too, right?'

She stood and realised she was rather plastered, dusted a kiss on Cindy's cheek and wrapped an arm around Butch so that they could tackle the stairs together.

Ash had known Butch for as long as she could remember. When they'd grown up together in the vault, he'd been a nasty little bully, and their rivalry had been famous amongst the families they lived with. As they'd grown older, though, Ash had realised he was a product of his crappy parents just as much as she was. Her father, whose scientific pursuits came above all else, screwed her just as bad as Butch's sorry excuse of a mother. Eventually they'd settled into a mutual respect and when she'd left the vault, she'd helped him out a _lot._ He'd even stayed at her place in Megaton with her for a few months before he found his feet out in the wastes.

Butch was _gorgeous_ and always elicited the reactions he wanted from women, but Ash knew that she frustrated him because she didn't want to fuck him. Sure, he was nice to look at, and they'd fooled around here and there when he'd stayed at her place. He was kind and funny, but Ash just loved him so much as a constant in her life that she'd never cross that line again. They'd not spoken of it since, and had settled into a flirtatious,  but ultimately sibling-type relationship. Tonight, however, Butch was more intoxicated than Ash had ever seen him. It worried her because his mother had been an alcoholic so he tended to keep a close eye on his limits. When the two rounded the corner to Ash's hotel room, he shifted her arm away from behind his neck and pushed her backwards into the door until their faces were nearly touching. They were quiet for a moment, and before Butch started to lean into her further she nudged him gently away from her. He scowled a little as she looked him in the eyes.

'C'mon Butch. It's not gonna happen. I love you so much but not like that. You know it would destroy what we already have.' She sounded sad and he snapped out of it, pulling the facade back down immediately.

'Sheesh, I'm just drunk. You might be hot but you're not that hot, lady.' He winked at her again and lurched off down the hall.

 'Goodnight Butchie!' She shouted behind him, not caring who she awoke at such a late hour. She was glad he'd taken her rejection well but slightly irked at the sudden change in her mood. She'd been so pleasantly buzzed, before. Sighing, she knocked on the door to the room and waited to be let in.


	21. Still Thirsty

'C'mon Butch, it's not gonna happen...'

Charon was awaiting the girl's return when he heard her stagger up to the door. He could make out two sets of footsteps and decided to avoid any awkwardness and wait until she knocked to open the door, which she did. When he swung it open she fell right past him onto the floor, groaning. He glanced outside but couldn't see anyone, however the smell of a spicy cologne wafted in the hallway. Ash was quite clearly very drunk, and he pulled the door shut again before stepping over her to return to the chair in the corner. He pretended not to notice as she dragged herself upright, her face and cheeks flushed with pink. He could smell the alcohol spreading off her in waves, and was grudgingly impressed that such a tiny person could've ingested so much in one night. She was upright now and his eyes followed her, tottering around the bed. She'd managed to focus on her shotgun sitting there, clean and fully operational.

'You tinkered with Cullen?'  Her voice was barely more than a whisper. 'He looks brand new.'

She had picked up the gun and was holding it with an expression on her face that he couldn't read. Finally, she looked over at him with shiny eyes and a smile too big for her face.

'Thankyou.' She said it so quietly he barely caught it, but those words reverberated in the ghoul's head for a minute. No one had spoken to Charon the way she was, not in a long time. They were both lost in thought; her sucking on _another_ cigarette and him settling himself in the chair more comfortably.

Before she staggered off into the bathroom she'd bundled up one of the blankets from the bed and climbed over it, so that she was right next to him.

'Do you want to sleep tonight? You can take the bed.'

'I do not require much sleep and the chair is...adequate.' He rumbled.

She cocked an eyebrow at him but didn't press the issue, and when he made no move to accept the proffered blanket she had thrown it onto him, drunkenly giggling. He untangled himself, finding that he wasn't _actually_ too pissed off at this; being around someone who wasn't stern and slimy was turning out to be... well. He had no real complaints.

The girl had showered quickly. _To sober herself up,_ he thought, when he heard the water running but noticed the lack of steam coming from under the bathroom door. He'd always been observant and every excursion away from Underworld felt like a field exercise to him, a way to sharpen his mind. It was useful to know things, and people often underestimated Charon's intelligence. He'd noticed several things about Ash that intrigued him, for instance the fact that she shook everywhere she went. He assumed she was a junkie, but who wasn't nowadays? She had a nervous laugh that she didn't seem to know about, and he had a good idea of where the cuts and burns on her arm were from. She was like a little puzzle, and Charon actually felt a burst of isolation when he thought about going back to Azrukhal's bar in the morning.

It had been about twenty minutes since they'd settled down into the dark to sleep. Charon knew he'd realistically only get an hour or so, but the chair wasn't too uncomfortable and the soft glow of Ash's pip-boy light was strangely soothing to him. He had thought her to be asleep already; passed out from the liquor in minutes, so it startled him when her voice rang out in the darkness.

'Charon...?' He heard her blankets rustle as she shifted herself to sit up in the bed. 'Do you _like_ working for Azrukhal?'

The silence stretched out until he replied, with what almost sounded like a sigh. 'No.'

She didn't say anything after that, and Charon decided not to dwell on it; to try and relax whilst he had the comfort of a warm room and a full stomach.


	22. Follow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the time since updating, been going through a bit of shit lately but hey ho! Hope you are all well and dandy!! :D

It was late in the morning when Ash woke up, stretching and rubbing her hand in her hair. Charon was absent from his corner so she nipped to the bathroom, turning on the shower and making use of the facilities. Emerging ten minutes later, feeling refreshed and ready for the day, she jumped when she saw that the big ghoul was sitting in his chair once more. She recovered for a second and plopped herself down on the bed, crossing her legs and lighting a cigarette that she'd pulled from her pocket.

'Morning!' She beamed, and Charon nodded his head ever so slightly.

'Silent giant act again, huh? Whatever. We'll go get breakfast then we'll come back here to pack before we head out. Sound good?'

The ghoul still didn't reply but she knew he was likely hungry so she hopped off the bed and led the way back to the Marketplace. She got Charon a massive breakfast, which lasted about five minutes, so she ordered him more. Whilst he ate, she sipped at a Nuka-cola and shook another cigarette out of the packet. She was about to light it when she felt Charon's eyes on her, but when she returned his stare he looked away immediately. She was looking forward to kitting him out in some new armor, especially after last night. Her shotgun was her favourite possession and usually no one else was allowed to touch it, but Charon had done a masterful job on it.  Cullen was clean and shiny, she couldn't wait to blast someone's head off with him.

The big fella was standing now, so Ash chucked a pile of caps onto the table they had been using and motioned for him to follow her. Shrapnel was waiting patiently at his store, looking even hotter this morning with tousled hair and a cigarette hanging from his lips. His face crinkled into a slow smile as she approached him and when she reached the counter, he leaned onto it and reached out to lightly pull on a strand of her hair.

'Lookin' real good this morning , 101. I got what you're after right here, and your ghoul's armor, too.'

'Well, you do know how to please a woman, don't you? Noticing the haircut _and_ fantastic service..'  She'd laughed, and he'd let go of her hair to slide a large box over to her, transitioning into salesman mode.

'These were kinda hard to come by. We got lots'a old shit upstairs but I had to sift through everything for hours to find the right size and even then I'm not sure if it'll fit. He's something else, huh?' They both spared a second to glance at Charon who was standing a few paces behind Ash, smoking. If he had heard any of their conversation he wasn't showing it, which suited her fine.

*****

They were back in their hotel room and Ash was busying herself making sure everything was in her pack. She'd grabbed a couple of stimpaks for the road and some sweets for Carol at the market, and was planning a little detour in her head to grab some scrap metal for Winthrop on the way back to Underworld. Charon was in the bathroom, putting on his new armor. She hoped it would fit because she'd ended up paying seven _hundred_ caps for it. When she'd passed him the package and told him to go get dressed he'd narrowed his eyes and stood there, box in his arms, which had prompted her to open it and explain that it was armor.

'I can see that it is armor.' He had muttered, and even though he looked just as pissy as usual, she watched his eyes roaming the contents of the box.

'So go put it on then, you think I got it for me?' She tilted her head back and laughed. 'Your current stuff is shitty and I need you to protect me properly until we're back. Don't want a repeat of that leg injury you sustained on the way here..'

He looked fucking _badass_ when he walked back out of the bathroom. The armor was ex-talon company, black with a white splotch on the breastplate. It looked new and had no dents; just a few scuffs here and there.

'Wow,' She breathed. _He's so tall and powerful, fuck, fuck, fuck._

Ash busied herself rounding up the last of her things for the journey; cigarettes and a lighter, a small knife that she kept in her breast pocket and finally, Cullen the shotgun. With everything ready she stared up at the ghoul, who was still standing in the bathroom doorway. 'Good to go, big boy? Is it comfortable?'

'It is... wholly adequate.' He had rumbled, and she was probably just imagining it but she thought he sounded a _tiny_ bit less gravelly when he said it. She'd distributed the weight in their packs evenly and although hers was heavy as _fuck_ she knew she could handle it, and was damn excited to leave Rivet.

With a big grin on her face, she lifted Cullen to rest on her shoulder and kicked the door open. Ignoring her companions' bemused expression, she trilled as she marched out of the hotel room; 'Let's bust this joint, biiiiitch!'


	23. Lead

The armor was nice. It fit comfortably and was a _da_ _mn_ sight better than his old shit, which he'd left on the bathroom floor. Azrukhal didn't care to see that Charon was well equipped for battle and many of his war wounds and scars could've been prevented if he'd had some armor like this. Not that he cared. He knew he had no choice, had learnt a long time ago to accept whatever injuries life dealt him.

When he'd heard the old letch at the market ask Ash for so many caps he was in awe to see her just hand them over; he'd heard the man talking and knew she was getting something for him, not for her. Charon didn't remember the last time someone had done something so...  _nice_ for him, and at first it had kinda pissed him off. He didn't know _how_ to show gratitude, and to be honest he didn't really _want_ to show it to this pipsqueak girl, even if he was thankful for the armor. When she'd explained it was so he could protect her better though, he'd realised he could just show her his appreciation by keeping her alive. It grated on him that he would probably never receive something again 'just because', hated how being gifted such a basic thing that he _needed_ to carry out his duty made him feel like he should reciprocate.

Before he left the bathroom, he'd taken a breath and looked at himself in the mirror. The new kit made him even more imposing than before and Charon was surprised to admit he didn't detest the image in the glass as much as usual, today. The surprises just kept coming, too. When he emerged in his new kit, she'd looked him up and down slowly and then started fumbling around on the bed for her cigarettes. He heard her little 'wow' noise and even though she wasn't looking, he couldn't help but raise an eyebrow. _I must look fucking terrifying,_ he smirked to himself, feeling taller than he was.

Half an hour later the girl had said her goodbyes and was skipping alongside him over the bridge to Rivet City. He noticed her good mood, and slowed with her as she bent down to give some tramp a few bottles of water. When they reached the entrance to Anacostia, she sat on the escalator leading down to the tunnels and took her cigarettes out of the packet. She lit two and passed one over to him, which he accepted without saying anything.

'OK, we blew the fuck out of our route back to Underworld. There's another way through the station but it's through a maintenance tunnel and it will be a r _eal_ tight squeeze for you. It's either that or back the long way, through the mutant stronghold. I'll do it if you can't stand the metro but I think the tunnels are still our best bet.'

Charon considered for a second. He was fine with taking the tunnels but he couldn't believe she was happy to waltz through the supermutant stronghold if that's what he chose. It had been a while since he'd been properly tested in combat against a Supermutant and he was almost inclined to say as much, but he'd taken a look at her tiny, shaking hand as she puffed on her cigarette and muted that idea straight away.

He knew why she was shaking, now. He'd worked it out that morning, whilst he sat there eating two plates of food and she had sipped on a Nuka. Something was eating her from the inside out, he had decided. He was thinking about all this when he realised that she'd finished smoking and was looking up at him expectantly. Her face was open, eyes wide and interested in what he had to say. A subtle twitch in her cheek took his attention, and he realised that his temporary companion was  _very_ intriguing, indeed.

'Tunnels.' He'd mumbled finally, and they'd descended the escalator. This time they'd have to take out the raider encampment to get to the maintenance route, and Charon was itching to put his new armor to the test.


	24. The Hound

'Fuck.' Ash's leg was pissing out blood. As soon as they'd stepped foot underground a group of about six raiders had popped up out of nowhere and released what seemed like a wall of bullets. She'd rolled out of the way and almost all of them had followed Charon when he'd sprinted off.

She had wrestled with one raider, a woman who was armed with a brutal kitchen knife, which was the implement that had sliced through her leg just below the knee. She'd dispatched her opponent quickly however, winkling her own blade out of her pocket and plunging it into the woman's neck as she flipped her onto her back. The knife had been wedged in Ash's leg so she'd yanked it out and dropped it, glancing around herself wildly and scrabbling behind her for her shotgun.

She was on the floor with another raider, this one male and covered in spiked armor, advancing on her position. She could hear the others shouting and gunshots in the next hall, so she knew Charon was still fighting. The spiked raider had thought she was finished by the amount of blood that was pouring out of her leg and so, when he lowered his assault rifle a tiny bit she'd thrust Cullen into his stomach and pulled the trigger. His armor stopped it from being a fatal shot, but she grabbed a stimpak off his belt whilst he writhed on the floor to stick into her leg and then unloaded another round into his groin which finished him off. She pulled herself up as quickly as possible and ran into the next hall, where the raiders had set up a makeshift shack above the train tracks below. There were two bodies in here, freshly killed, which meant there were only two more raiders that she was aware of.

Continuing through the tunnel and advancing towards the screaming that had since stopped, she was desperate to find Charon.  Following the tracks until they led out to another station, she heard the _crack_ of his shotgun towards the end of the room and popped up from her position to sprint over. Jumping over a set of tracks, she was still separated from the ghoul by another set when she heard him curse, loudly.

A raider lay slumped on the floor at his feet, but Charon was focused on something else beyond them and as Ash followed his line of sight she saw what he was looking at. The last raider, a woman with hardly any actual armor on but a big heavy helmet, was crouched on top of a cage at the end of the room. Inside the cage, which she unlatched as they watched on, was a big, angry mutated hound. The raiders must have captured it from near underworld and dragged it down here to use as security, and now it was racing towards Charon at an alarming speed.

Before he could lift his shotgun another raider appeared from above, jumping off a discarded balcony to land on the her companions' shoulders. They went down, twisting and turning and Ash realised the hound was going to fuck them up really fast if she didn't think quickly. Charon had dropped his gun and despite the half-naked raider that was now running towards her, she knew she had to do something about the hound.

 _'Fuuck_!' She had shouted, swinging her arm around with her pistol in it, shooting three rounds into the back of the hounds' head and hoping that she'd hit home. The raider with the helmet had managed to climb up onto her platform and picked up a metal bat from the floor, slamming it into her ribs and ripping the air from her lungs. Ash crumpled and watched the woman lift her arms to take another swing. Heat blossomed in her ribcage and everything went black.


	25. Slog in the Dark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry the chapters are so short! The action-ey ones I try not to make too... word-y haha!

He was on her. The bullets from Ash's gun had stopped the hound in its tracks at the exact same moment Charon had snapped the raider's neck, the one who had jumped on him. He'd taken in what was happening; the girl had unloaded her gun into the mutt because she'd thought Charon needed _her_ help and as a consequence, the bitch raider who'd released the dog was about to smash her brains out all over the station floor. He'd grabbed his shotgun and jumped over the rail tracks in one fluid move, blowing the woman's head off from the neck, shooting into her helmet as she raised the bat.

The Vault girl was in a bad way. There was blood trickling from her lips and her eyes were unseeing; Charon knew they'd only bought a few stimpaks with them and this job needed at least five. He didn't have many options, she wouldn't survive the brief trip back to Rivet City in this condition. At least the raiders were dead and he could work in peace.

First, he stabbed a Stimpak through her clothes and into her sternum, hoping that everything would start to heal as quickly as possible. He yanked the zip of her vault suit down and tried to roll her to one side as gently as he could. An alarming amount of blood flowed from her mouth and Charon was surprised once more to find that genuine panic was rising up through his stomach. This girl had been _nice_ to him. She was arrogant and a bit annoying but there were so many people in this shitty world that shouldn't get to live and she wasn't one of them. He rolled up her vest top and grimaced. her whole side was clearly caved in and he realised Stimpaks would only heal her to a certain point. He might be able to stabilise her but a Doctor would have to re-break all the bones that were currently knitting together in her chest and set them properly. She was going to be in a whole world of pain and it wouldn't be pretty. He sat with her for a while after administering three more stims; two from their pack and one that was on the raider that had dropped on him from above. Not knowing the whereabouts of this 'maintenance tunnel', Charon had no choice but to sit on the platform next to Ash, and wait.

After about an hour, she woke up, spluttering and coughing, face creased in pain. A minute or two passed and she laid back, head to the concrete and groaned ' _Fuuuuuuuuuck_.'

 Charon leaned over to offer her some water, pouring it into her mouth carefully in the semi-darkness. When she spoke, it was forced and full of little gasps.

'The tunnel we need to take is behind... where the cage is. You should take our packs and run them through. Tunnel goes on for... a good hour or so but when you reach the end there's a... ladder going down; you should leave our stuff there and then come back for me. Or not.' He heard a wet chuckle at the end of her sentence.

'I will do as you ask. I wanted to wait until you were conscious so that I could ask your consent...'

He was waving a little tube of Med-X near her face. She nodded and he took her arm but she made as if to pull it away.

'Not there. Into my neck, under my jaw..' She rasped, tilting her head as far as she could.

Charon knew you could administer Med-X that way; that it was far more potent but also more dangerous than injecting it into the arm. She was in a real state though, and he needed to move her which he knew would hurt a _lot,_ Med-X or no. Her eyes were on his as he searched under her jaw with his fingers, eventually pressing the needle into her neck as carefully as he could. He saw her relax, and then knelt so that he could pick her up in his arms.

'You can rest in the entrance of the tunnel, behind the door. I will take everything through and return.' He spoke softly, not wanting the last words she may ever hear to be harsh.

Stomping through the cramped tunnel twenty minutes later, Charon was _pissed_ off.

 _Why did she do that?! Crazy Vault-dwelling, suicidal Nutjob!_ He didn't want to leave her but their packs combined were very heavy. If they had been walking in the open he could've managed to carry her a _nd_ their items but he had to stoop low in these walkways as well as listening out for danger. He hoped the tunnels didn't really take hours to traverse; with _her_ tiny legs, maybe. Charon resolved to be back with the girl as soon as possible.

He kept seeing her face, unfocused eyes and pale, trembling lips, as he'd pushed the needle in under her jaw. Into that smooth, soft skin, her pulse hammering under his fingertips. In the last few days he'd touched and been touched, eaten more than he had in a month. There was a knot in his stomach that was heaving and twisting at the thought of another twenty years in the Ninth Circle, another _day_ with his disgusting employer. He had hoped to savour his journey back through the metro, but Ash needed Barrows and he knew he had to get her back to Underworld as soon as possible. The hours that it took him to reach the ladder had him frustrated and panting, it would take double that time to bring her back here and Charon didn't pause after taking the packs off to catch his breath.


	26. Awake Again

When Ash regained consciousness, she was very confused. It was pretty dark and she felt like she was on a ship or something, jiggling around, her body shifting on its own accord. She took a breath in and by _God_ did it hurt, before coughing as gently as she could, which caused little stars to blossom in front of her eyes. She realised that she was being carried, by Charon, through one of the bigger tunnels in the metro.

'We have to... stop meeting like this.' She grinned into the stale air, not knowing if he was listening.

There was a Med-X syringe peeking out of her chest pocket, and Ash couldn't wait to get it into her skin and go back to sleep. Her eyes adjusted to the dark and she realised they had stopped moving, and the ghoul was looking at her with a less than happy expression on his face. She felt him kneel and he shifted her legs so that they were draped over his knee momentarily.

'You want some more?' He asked quietly, huge fingers sliding the syringe out of her pocket. She nodded weakly.

'Same place as before?' He prompted.

She nodded again.

His fingertips grazed her chin and lifted her head a fraction, and she welcomed the sting of the needle as it worked its' way under her jaw. She felt a bottle press up against her lips and realised he was trying to get her to drink again, so she tilted her head back to accept some water. He stood once more, juggling her in his arms with ease now that she couldn't feel too much.

Black flames started to lick at the edges of her vision again and she curled her arm around Charon's neck from where it had been limply hanging down his back. She was freezing and had only stopped shaking because of the Med-X, but the ghoul's skin was _so_ warm and inviting. Her hand spread out until her fingers found the bottom of his neck. Dragging them upwards, she traced his cheek gently like a ghost. From her crumpled position in his arms she found it painful to speak.

'Thank you.' She choked out. His eyes glaring down at her were the last thing she saw as she slipped away again.

 

 

When she woke up for the second time she was happy to find that her surroundings were familiar once more. It still hurt to breathe but she realised that she could move and after wiggling around a bit to test, she sat up slowly. Barrows had noticed her stirring and rushed over from the corner of the room where he had been tapping some info into the computer at his desk.

'You're awake! It's been four days; we thought you might not ever regain consciousness. How do you feel? His brow was creased and he looked tired.

'Umm I just feel like I woke up from a really long sleep I guess... it hurts to breathe too deeply.'

The doctor was crouched by the bed now, a hand reaching out to tug up the corner of the loosely fitting shirt that he'd dressed her in. Her chest looked normal to her, barring a few recent needle tracks that were peppered around, as well as a large, yellowing bruise.

'Well, you're all healed now, just need to take it easy for the next few days. Carol was a mess, went to give Azrukhal a piece of her mind, which didn't go down too well. She has a room set up for you but we need to see if you can walk properly yet, which we will, once Nurse Graves has taken care of your catheter and a few other bits and pieces.'

His face was set in a grim expression and Ash had a feeling she knew what he was about to say.

'I had to intubate you for the first two days to feed you, you were so weak. When was the last time you ate properly? I asked Charon what you had on your travels but he refused to speak to me.' His voice was gentle and full of concern which made Ash's eyes prickle with tears as she turned her face to the wall.

After a few minutes of silence, she reckoned she'd made it clear enough that this topic was _not_ up for discussion. With an exasperated exhale, the Doctor stood up again and swept out of the room to go and find Nurse Graves.

Ash sighed, anxious to be up and out of the bed as soon as possible. All she could think about was the man who had saved her once again. The night she'd asked Charon if he liked working for Azrukhal, she'd made up her mind about purchasing his contract and wanted to get it out of the way so that she could go home to Megaton and rest. After the nurse had come to remove her tubes she'd taken a shaky step out of the bed and then carried on going. Apart from sticking her head in to see Carol, she just wanted _out_ of Underworld, asap.

The old ghoul jumped out of her chair at the front desk when Ash stumbled around the corner, clutching her side.

'Why aren't you in bed?!' She rasped, hurrying over to help support the girl. 'I've set up a room for you and it's not even up the stairs, come on, I'll help you.'

Ash fidgeted around until she was standing properly and gently returned Carol's careful hug.

'Sorry Carol but I just want to get the fuck out of here and go _home._ Did Charon bring my stuff back or...?'

Carol's face had shifted into a look of disappointment; but she understood the girl's need to leave Underworld already.

'He did, I'll go get everything for you, but how will you travel in this state?' Her eyes took in the girl's body. She was trying to stand still and upright but looked as though a stiff wind would blow her over.

'Don't worry about me, Carol, I've dealt with much worse. Plus, I'm taking Charon with me. Out of here, at least..'

Carol helped Ash down into a sofa and then disappeared behind a door to the left, returning with Ash's pack. Accepting it with a grateful smile, Ash rummaged around in it, pulling out her vault suit and a handful of sweets from Rivet City which she pushed into Carol's hand. The ghoul smiled and accepted the gift, sitting down next to Ash gently and waiting for her to speak.

'Barrows told me you gave that dickhead behind the bar a piece of your mind?'

Carol chuckled softly. 'I told him he was a cruel old fucker, and that when people saw the state of you they'd boycott his shitty dive! He had Charon escort me out though, roughly.'

Ash grinned and gave Carol's hand a firm squeeze. They sat for a minute and then Ash decided it was time to get going.

'I need to get dressed, reckon you can give me a hand?' She'd asked, and Carol had locked the front doors for some privacy.

After a bit of shuffling and fumbling, Ash was back in her vault suit and feeling a lot more like herself.

'I need a half-dose of Med-X and then I'm out, I'm going to get the Doc to give it to me though, hands are shaking like a bitch.'

Before she left, pack slung over her shoulder, shotgun in hand, she grasped Carol in a long and heartfelt hug. 'Thankyou so much for all your help Carol. I will come back to visit, I _promise.'_ She whispered, trying not to let herself get emotional.


	27. Terms and Conditions

The Ninth Circle was quite possibly the _worst_ place in the wasteland, Charon had decided. He'd only been back a few days but he could already feel himself stagnating, letting go of the world outside. It was late and the girl hadn't made an appearance yet. Charon didn't know if it was because she was dead or because she'd left as soon as she could, which is what he would do given the choice. 

He could still feel her fingertips lightly stroking his cheek, the first time anybody had touched him on his face in years and _years._ He knew it was stupid but he had a hard time not thinking about her, selfishly hoping that she'd travel alongside him again someday for Azrukhal.

 _Not likely,_ his brain taunted. _You let her get hurt._

Suddenly he felt pissed off. She wasn't his employer, he had no loyalty to her and he wished she'd back off out of his head. Just as he was willing his mind clear there she was again, with the creak of a hinge. She looked a bit worse for wear; her vault suit was dirty and bloodstained at the leg and her eyes were red-rimmed. She peeked up at him from the doorframe, an intense gaze, but only for a split second. By the time he'd blinked she was strutting towards the bar purposefully.

'Azrukhal.' She spoke loudly enough that Charon could hear her.

His employer started to speak and she put her hand in the air, waving off his greeting and his enquiries about her health.

'I want to buy Charon's contract. How much?' She was sifting through her pack with one hand, the other  was palm down on the counter. Azrukhal's eyes were darting everywhere, skimming over the large bag of caps that materialised in her fist.

'Well, straight to the business talk, I love it. Thing is, Charon there is a valuable asset to me and to the Ninth Circle. What did you have in mind?'

She slung the bag onto the bar forcefully and a few caps spilled from the top, clinking onto the floor as they fell. Charon's body was full of adrenaline. It had been a long time since his contract had changed hands and _by God_ he fucking hated this bar, hated Azrukhal.

'There's two-thousand five hundred in there. I think that more than covers it, considering the work I've done for you as of late.' The girl spat out, sounding more than pissed off.

Charon was on full alert, waiting, _wanting._

'I suppose that could work, yes...' The ghoul's hands were on the bag of caps as quickly as he said it, his smile a mile wide. When Charon saw Azrukhal pull that tiny roll of paper out of his pocket and place it in the girl's outstretched palm, it was like an alarm had gone off inside him. He straightened, taking his back from the wall, and watched as his new employer stepped towards him. Before she could speak he held up a hand without making eye contact and strode over to Azrukhal at the bar.

The fat ghoul was stuffing his bag of caps into his safe, and when he turned around and noticed Charon standing there he looked smug as hell.

'That's right, Charon. Have you come to say goodbye?' He'd asked, leaning forward with both arms on the countertop.

'Yes.' Charon replied, lifting his Shotgun from his back in one fluid motion. Before he could react, Azrukhal's brains were decorating the walls of his precious establishment. That was the end of him, and Charon felt pure retribution.

He was about to turn away from the remains splattering the floor when he felt a hand slap him on the back and the girl was beside him suddenly, grin plastered across her face.

'Fuck _yes!_ Two birds with one stone!' She clapped excitedly before grabbing a bottle of whiskey from the side and strolling back the way she'd came, waiting at the door for him.

When they got outside, she'd sat down on the bench that marked the beginning of their...understanding.  It felt like long ago but it had been little more than a fortnight since then. The ghoul looked down at her, and she'd made a screwed-up sort of face and then asked if he wanted to sit. He shook his head and she held out the bottle of whiskey to him, which he took. It was already late afternoon and a celebratory drink wouldn't hurt.

Charon was riding on a high _._ He'd fantasized about the day he'd kill Azrukhal, and although he didn't have any fears as such, the thought of spending another lifetime in that hell hole had been terrifying. He slugged down a few mouthfuls of liquor and passed it back to Ash, who also drank from the bottle, deeply.

'So,' She started, a smile on her face. 'I would've killed him too, maybe with a hint more subtlety but still. You wanna share with the group? A little warning might've been nice; my ears are still ringing.'

Charon raised an eyebrow and accepted the whiskey again when she held it out to him. He took a swig and gave it back, weighing up his words. 'Azrukhal was an evil bastard. So long as he held my contract, I was honour bound to do as he commanded. But now you are my employer, which freed me to rid the world of that disgusting rat. And now, for good or ill, I serve you.'

She spluttered on her mouthful and started to laugh again before stammering out 'Well that sounds fucking ominous. Also, look at you! That was almost a fucking monologue; you really must've hated the fucker!' She was still grinning, and he watched her relax into the bench as the alcohol started to take effect.

Looking up at him still, she pulled his contract out of her breast pocket and held it out to him. He made no move to take it and watched as she did this weird sort of... wiggling thing with it in his direction.

'Do I need to say something or what?' Her bemused face as she peered up from the bench was almost funny. 'You're free; magical radiation fairy, off you pop!'  She giggled, slotting the contract into his enclosed fist.

Charon narrowed his eyes at her. 'It doesn't work like that. You can sell it or give it away. Or one of us could die' He shrugged, uncurling his fist over her lap and letting the tightly rolled piece of paper land there. She picked it up again, unravelling it and folding it out on her lap.

Her fingers traced the page, the only thing that was still legible on it was a worn-away thumbprint and a fancy gold border that was sewn into it. When she looked back up to find his eyes, he saw sadness in hers.

'Is there anyone you would _like_ to take your contract? Anywhere you'd like to go?'

He considered this for a moment. All of his previous employers were dead, and there had been about ten of them, eleven if you included Azrukhal. He didn't much care for anywhere he had been so far in the Wasteland, and he didn't have the same hatred in his heart for the girl as he had for any of the others; even if it did piss him off that she'd bought him like a common mutt.

'I wish to serve you, Mistress.' He eventually grinded out, and her eyes widened.

 She threw her head back and laughed, hard. 'No, no, nooo none of that! You know my name; just call me Ash. Mistress this and that is really _not_ my thing.'

For some reason this set her off again and she laughed for another few minutes or so. When she finished, she stood up and looked him directly in the face.

'Speak when you want to speak. Eat when you want to eat. Ask me whatever the fuck you want, whenever the fuck you want. If you really want to 'serve me' or whatever I just hope that we can work it out so that you're happy. I live in Megaton; we're gonna go there and chill the fuck out for while. Cool?'

Charon allowed himself to rearrange his features into a guarded mask and followed her when she took off, noting that she was already half-cut and thinking that he should probably keep a clear head until they were out of the Wastes.


End file.
